[Suzerain of Sheol]

So glad I'm keeping my one-poem-a-month quota *rolls eyes*

Possibly [M] on this one, just in case.

Subsistence, Post-Eschaton

No longer looking for
tangible miracles
tired of seeking those
moments of splendor, those
times more sublime, and we're
riding the red-shift express to a
satisfactory destruction, so I'm
gnawing on the heels of entropy, wondering how
an Nth-dimensional God could
make such a basic mistake, while I
trudge through the puddles of
mercury rain, while I
trip over somebody's
obsolete fetus, following a
blood-trail of better ideas, passing the
Chelsea-grinning husks one by one,
and with all this space to kill,
all these atoms to appreciate, I pause...


...remembering what it is to remember to smile
as I catch sight of Christ in the clouds