A Cosmology I Can Live With
by John Kendall Hawkins
At the end of the known fractal universe, time
is laid to waste and our bonds are removed;
we become the free radicals we longed
to be, but now absorbed and unassigned,
interpenetrating cosmic switches
of possibility, stem paradigms
waiting to be recovered and resolved
in the blast furnace of 'First Causation'.
I'm tired of dreaming of roses in bloom
that end in a primal scream of color,
and of hearing church bells weeping the loss
of our spent culture. We go on, unmoved.
Time is hopeless, and one day we'll be one
phenomenological fusing sun.