A branch of each possibility has already been sprung forth and grown into boundless reaches;
towards the infinite
a slow approach into forever
a burning, a dying, a feeding
and a face that stretches til death.
A past still lays out before me
as I travel this path
that I carved out a thousand years before. . .
as I till the same old ground
sprouting the same old fruits
and living in the same spoils as before. . .
Until my facultative tools
bump upon the same rock upon which
I had bumped before. . .
The gritty, sandy, composite
of beautiful granite, coal, mica, and gold
that I have picked up and inspected
a million times before.
Yet this time. . . .I do not throw the stone away thoughtlessly.
I take it
and sharpen my mind,
grinding away
my rotary ruse
of mental machinations
of blessed curses
of cursed blessings
I take this new mind
and kill my old self,
splitting this age-old branch
into a dynamic bifurcation
of new life; new reaches; new growth.
This makes the universe explode
with ecstasy,
all energies
surging with
a self-feeding power
swelling in hot fission
that spurs forth a scorching
fucking hot fusion.
A tree that blooms upwards and outwards
and wraps down and around into its own roots
The torus tree. . .
The möbius mind. . .
Living in an empire that will never end.
Fac simile facts
Carbon copy culture. . .
A hammer hitting stone. . .
A hammer hitting stone. . .
