KILLING ME
It is killing him
writing so fast
to change
the worlderasing inhumanity, injustice
and suffering
things moving so
fast it is
a blur outsidejust colours, shapes and
forms flowing into each otherand this, as he loses
any sense of anything individual, sees
nothing but the complexities of pattern,
must be
he realizeshow God sees the world, and beyond
that the Universe, Himself writing
everything at blistering
speed
the speedof evolution, of
thirteen billion years
collapsed into a secondof this moment
in my poem, his poem, whoever
is writing
whom
at this momentstrung across the fabric
of space time
stretched out
to infinityand yet
here we all are, twenty-four frames per second.
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