At The Threshold Of The Cosmic Ages Is A Ladder Made Of Chaos Climb Up Out Of The Cage Of Diamond It Spreads Out In All Directions Forming A Pavement Of Diamond Look Down To The Depths Of The Earth At The Outer Gate In The Middle Is A Triangle Called “Origin Of Things/Teapots”
Just Taking You Apart And Arranging You Into A Circle I Try To Put You Back Together But Carelessly I’ve Lost Too Many Pieces Whoops Now You’re The Milky Way
Start From A Seated Position... Remaining In Entitled Silent Finality... But Only Wanting To Ask... Does This Still Mean Moral Boom Boom?
I Wish The Rope Hanging Here Barely Visible Between Animal And Emptiness Would Prevent You From Constantly Dissolving Into Nonsense But I Guess We’ll Just Have To Live With It
These Small Universes Gently Gathering Around The Mundane Egg Always Remain Chaotic But If Only For A Moment Do I Ever Begin To Lose My Way
Please Stop Trying To Win The Dying Game Even If You Took First Prize A Condensed Version Of Yesterday Would Still Live On Glittering In Your Mind Today (There Is No First Prize)
If Your Mouth Was Turned Off Just For A Moment We Might All Become Weightless And This Endless Book Could Finally Be Closed
