Crossing the finite tracks seraphic blue
Arabesques and oculi below unpart
To make new rivers and mountains like an art.
Green food is home to traffic out of view.
Even flat earth promised the infinite
Compared to this, an ocean on contract,
Wounds pouring incapable of retract,
Us not knowing what we do, indefinite.
Nailed it, as we say of a summary
That controls the bloody mess we can’t control
Our comfort short-lived, the meaning grotesque.
Horizon after horizon at risk
Strain with thirst, speak to beauty like a soul,
Dying to feed us all, no Plan B.
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