Know when you look into the tiny hearts of men
(no bigger than a fist, clenching
Every other beat
that old, malleable stone of certainty)
That what you see there is blind Terror
I would experiment with the sublim(inal)
We know the universe
is
an ever-expanding, undefinable, space
Yet nobody feels inclined to say the same
of
themselves
We are all behind the wheel
simultaneously
Music playing Loud
singing, screaming,
Hung out on the Line
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