there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.

We all have what it takes..
some,
like Moses.

Once upon a time, Everything was in a bottle. All the little universes were fizzing little bubbles, and the paths between them were made of clear clutter. There was a cork on the bottle, sealed and marked with an old sort of stamp, the kind that drips wax all over the glass and reminds old seafarers of rolled up scrolls and dreams thrown into the waves.

And once upon a time, someone melted down the wax, eased out the cork, and took a sip. All the stars burned spicy as cumin and the black holes left a sour sort of taste behind. It wasn’t a very orderly sort of soda. It wasn’t a very perfect one either. But it was the most delicious thing in- well, not in the universe. That’s what it was made of.

Once upon a time, Everything was in a bottle. Then, it wasn’t.

Dark floats out into the silence
Crashing on the banks of Prometheus's wings
Opening a velvet-silk curtain.
To a fabric of shadowed stars
Cloudy fingers sew it clean
While invisible hands stitch pearls back in.
A ghost flits on the hallway stair
Reaching for the last shafts of sun
Tumbling off a silent dream
Blind as black with a lullaby hum
Filling the gaps in an empty line
Somewhere between dusk and dawn.

This machine kills fascists
That's what it was born to do
Shared time with Woody Guthrie
As the Oklahoma cold winds blew

They played each other for the people
Moving many a poor man's soul
Riding the fine line of the times
But not enough time to grow old

Feeling the pangs of hunger
In the knowledge of right and wrong
Took what was left out of rights best
And tuned it up in song

Where this machine kills fascists
Cause that's what it was born to do
Hung out with Woody Guthrie
For a time of two

How
many
people
Am I?!