Fragmentation Finished

The room all packed but for pictures and desk

And all abounds the glaze of emptiness

That with all might and velocity reverberates

The times in here fast forward in the walls contained.

And I don't exact the loneliness

To have fossilised within these corners and hence

To obstruct entirely a sea of silence

Chanting closer in the gay distance.

So I feel I should exit and take the late afternoon air

suffused with laziness, and a sense

of utterly available opportunity no rather I'll stay

and witness instead the vaccumed presence.

When one occupies the realm of each instant

from its birth to swift disappearance, as a moment

soon follows the one defunct - what gives

but a small death captured in our synapses?

And it repeats, each time anew, a photography of self

moving on endlessly to the next increment

but here I see in my own pannavision peripherals

all these past me-s dancing in magistral conjunction

as if a recess from rational memory

as if to claim back all of these atom stories

to their infinitesimal selves, in millions reformed.

And so in the whirlwind vision that I may see

I notice that among the myriad entities

each of them is all me.