Our story thus far:
we
are lumbering through the void
trailing
star stuff, dust, and gas.
Behind
us is the dead-weight pain
of
climbing out of the surly sea,
the
long wait for solar system swirl,
gravity’s
push on amniotic matter
and
the one-cell boogie up the chain,
prehensile
pirouette in arboreal trees
to
turning the tables at a Manhattan diner.
It
was all preface for a cosmic certificate to ride,
eighty
billion years of the double helix grind.
Galaxies
now collide and combine
before
flying off into the lamasery’s mind.
The
future is om, no what and no where,
the
omega of the cosmic brain,
the
invisible point of singularity light
before
the Big Bounce starts it all over again.
Let
it rain, let it rain.
There’s frost obscuring the windowpane.
This
is all I can see from my cabin in the woods.
~William Hammett
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