a thought about the century of my birth

 
 

Love is the funnel filled

our cherished past

and future promised

shining shapes through the calling ether

and the void

what energy it is to forge the vacuum

beyond the dome the scent of space is brimstone

and gunpowder

a happy thought

empirically shaped

though dubiously bound

(and perhaps that is the secret flavoring)

we aren’t sure

we aren’t sure

but so much on we know

life resist the shutting door