Fate Is Slow

5 02 2010

atrition is worse than catastrophe
for every earthquake or tornado or 9/11
there are a thousand starvations distinct
cancers eating away at us and
cholesterol lurking in our arteries.

we are creatures of certain doom
all of us will meet the same end.
like fleeting butterflies enraptured
freed from our cocoons wound in time
the perfect paradigm is captured
the glint of an eye in terror slapped.

the band-aid relinquishes it’s sticky charms
and I fall into the arms of my own suspicion
and whatever frail rendition of the truth I render
becomes the immaculate defender of
circumstance and agnosticism.

my world is viewed through opposing mirrors
they disappear into the distance multipied
like mummies breathing and vital in repose
and all of those that dream of immortality
will see the dance repeated, and the melody.

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