Child Star

Beautiful bloom on the verge of death
sequences and full of life
dancing with the streaming radiation
of endless fiery tears falling in
every direction           in every direction
and then in an instant on a
glowing vessel of exploration
I find the graceful knowledge   that
perhaps     or just maybe I just
never noticed                      space.
(strings wail from the friction of the beast
holding together by bands of existence befuddled)
Befuddled by repetition like the hollow
-ness of church bells marking this time of ours
like parenthetical explosions of painless torture
MOVE on but don’t focus on the BOLDLY labeled
nonsense
dashing to see fissures rise and chasms fall
(or mountains moving with my feet)
for from this distance a populace        only seas rage
ignoring the flaring beauty of a message that reads
“I love you.”

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