08.20.22

                                                                                                                                                                       .

Crash.

The car,

the countenance,

and the stock market.

Just ride that fucker in.

Don’t wait for gravity

to do it for you.

Why?

Because it’s all going down.

Time dips into a spiral

as our galaxy rides

the toilet bowl

of an event horizon.

You gotta crash down.

Break yourself

into your constituent pieces

and understand your quantum self.

Shatter smash

your consciousness

until neither time,

nor gravity have a hold.

Reconstitute ad infinitum.

Right?

Ride the reincarnation

Merry-go-round,

catching the high breakers of existence

like a California summer.

There has never been

a better time

to be smashed to bits.

Hadron Collider vibes.

No reason for tomorrow,

when we can

obliterate today.

CRACK!

Sinking the eight ball

right off the break.

Winner, winner.

Apocalypse dinner.

Y’all come down

to that subatomic level

and bear your teeth

in the same smiling rictus

as an Egyptian pharaoh mummy.

Glad you came by.

Blow the doors off.

No more barriers to entry.

Entropy

is the only law

that we enforce

in this little slice

of reality.

Crash.

Watch the buildings fall.

Godzilla children’s toys

and the inevitable fate

of every Lego airplane.

Will there be anyone

to pick up the pieces?

If a whole dimension

of reality collapses,

does it make a sound?

Does it matter?

From our lips

to God’s ears.

The parabola

comes back to ground.

Rocket man,

sky pilot,

screaming in exaltation,

that the end,

is just a beginning

and matter

cannot be destroyed.

Crash.

  

  

HG – 2022

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