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13 & God



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13 & God

Soft Atlas

A vision, your ghost blowing up globes
Tightening them off with an X-axis-esque c-clamp
Then setting them down through the clouds
Onto empty department store shelves
Where they sit facing all sorts of islands
Out toward dead wee-hour isles

Has the earth come loose from its
Galactic neck beneath you, cut off above the clouds
Gone let go from the space surround it
Dropped down done to the sun system's floor

Crooked pearl of the one universe
Cleaved, fell rolling toward a corner of the cosmos
In the blacked and quiet of come time
And you are all lamb for this

Spring is at your back again
This time rare with your clarity
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While patches of you thought
Whole had turned up still
Made a tar of your woe and flesh there in

Have you gone half dead
Yet, yet have you to let the worst most be
As if it were atlas to your world of cope

And no one is out there scared
You'd set your eyes off one the ceiling all night
In the dark think of a song
Or maybe breasts or missing body parts

Without a universal law there is no gravity
Without a gravity there is no atmosphere
Without an atmosphere there is no chance at life
And with no chance at life, I don't exist