Old/News Colonies

For TheDeadGuy. For raincomplex. For Bitriot. For cabin fever. For Arthyr.

_________________________________________________________________________

When this cosmic mess
Finally comes to mean nothing
To the old tribes
Of pearly metal sailboats
Who have drawn the maps
Of a burning bowlfull
Of boring stars in another
Sedimentary frontier of fates
And hiding places,

Except that there is no ground
Under which to burrow, our only concern
Is the direction of up
Where is it and what and
How does it help because
When we conquer up
Everything else will fall into place
Mattering less than the thumb
Tucked into the fist to keep from freezing
As the rest of the arm erects
The hitchhiker hail

When we open the new final book and wonder
At how easily the answers come
And how so many of life's truths are merely
The intersections of nature, that'll be the day
When I get my free ride through space

date unknown
probably early 2014