iwait4u

OUR UNIVERSE IS
a self circumcised bit
of whole number meat
fallen into hard waters

Our tombstone is that errant cut
where the integers came to a STOP
our time begins

In this foreskin after space
of rotting ruined integer meat
a tiny reassembling piece
of that cast off schmuck am i

It seems a cold and high desert place
where irony is cheap and full of stink
where every moon is first a face
and the garbage separates itself
into galaxies of dull waste
where we make our living upon ourselves

BEHIND THE CABAL OF APPEARANCE
there exists a conspiracy between
matter and number
and number and light

THE FACE IS NOT A PARKING LOT
for the nose and lips
where they may do
their fine works
Face is the natural abstraction
of unity in being

Faces light up the places
we can not,
or can no longer, see.
Number is natures
medium of exchange
it is like a throne
upon which man
in this world, must sit,
-but face- ?
it is the Crown upon his head.

"There is no now in science." Kurt Godel

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