12/30/13

The Planets are Cold Syrup (poem)

The planets are cold syrup
thick in the night
frosts rime over the worlds held in absolute zero
like aloof beacons screeching through never land
sweet with possibilities
they are cold dreams dormant through time

Everything said through electrons
dots with the dashes of interval
rhythms scaling up ladders to nowhere
bricks in the xy axis of rational number's infinities
have phenomenal moments of meaning
like the shadows of great volcanic slopes
changing as the planets rotate around.

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