A GENESIS

for Franz and Bill   

Stranded in a realm strangely familiar 
I shield my gaze with my hand and a groan
Escapes. A soft light begins to arc up
And over the horizon, defying 
The black logic of this infinite plane
Splitting the universe into two halves
There are no horizons. Fused with the air
The cruelest reward for purpose: despair
And total silence, as my voice that laughs
Is snatched away to another refrain
And returned into meltdown as crying 
In fetal parody, my cup offered
The dawn desiccates my chances for home
The dormant seed teaches me: NO DEATH HERE

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