The Measure of Us

In our tiny conundrum
We reek of what's visible
All the light that is fit to be seen
380,000 years worth evading
What if not sucking
Could cause us to listen

In our pop ridden control group
Words turn us on
Words like yoga and flow
Following crumbs of promise
of reveal and credence
46.5 billion light-years away from
Whatever is fit to engulf
O' heavenly Big Gulp
Our insignificant trespassing

On our caravan of hopeless trickle
Latching on like babes
Hook and eyeing our way
to some breaded cutlet of peace
Adding testicles to our truck hitch
To represent our enthusiasm
for both the journey and the challenge
5 times as much dark
As what we know as light
And still we meander
Being either yanked or swallowed
In the most existential way
The most primitive
and pious way

Toward our 20 degree region
Primeval
Honored and revered
Our ancestors calling
Down the longest hall of all
Our doorway
Marked with the nicks
Of a growing child
Spoiled with stickers
Glitter and color
--
9.16.09

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