Our Glasses

Something went wrong. It is not for me to judge the degree by which this may have led to the inevitable consequences that unfold like light impervious to degrees good or bad.

Something just went wrong. This was the effect of due course and not the cause or point of origin as though could be specified succinctly where the beginning of blame is compact and obvious by distinction between layers of strata in Earth, this was then, then this was now, this happened thus caused this blood red dirt; this era-something went wrong. There were clues, globules, and hints that worked their way to the surface by usual volcanic activity calling themselves tiny coincidences, granite is a stoic collector an enduring supporter, an acquired eye. Yes, clues, scree, I wiped my feet. 

By assemblage, it would be best to use a logic puzzle grid and if all else fails, guess and check. Usually, in eliminating all impertinent information or relevant and most necessary negative extrapolations, we come closer to what we are not.

Some words were strange, numerically out of context, standing in for something greater than one possibility which makes it difficult to decide if we should be made an ex or a why…

Those outward signs, the nose, the fingers and weak organs, not so subtly and not easily dismissed by nature or lack of nurture, this only made this one stand out from the others. The odd cast out so as not to interfere with even, truth, or interrupt the act of Life. All the world is a black stage, I only intend to learn my part as the understudy, minimally working on my costume, I exhume the dream of anyone seeing me, it was a dream.

Captive audience or made hostage, either way I do not recognize this scene so I am rapt up temporarily and I am convinced a line I know will come along soon even if it is not mine.

I have not found heart, I never looked outside. These people are not my peers. There are public spectacles with wire frames paneled in glass and called anyone’s dream home. I scream at that ugly transparency, opaque in an alabaster way, permeable and subject to influence and wavelength, shale and sand-stone, color yourself like granite!

Something went wrong. I wasn’t supposed to find out. Stranger in a stranger land, the hourglass sucks in sand. Something went wrong. It should be empty by now. It cannot express infinity that way but does, with or without me, good or bad, always.   

Painting by William Orpen [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.