Black Sun’s Zenith

Black Sun’s Zenith

Objectives like manufactured hopes synthetic, metallic, plastic particle

Prop department look-a-likes inserted into the filmed scenes

To make believe me that these contrapuntal contraptions are in fact

Agreeable with the genuine issue

Biology out on display in a squirrel dog, mountain cur

Tiny and spotted with olfactory detectors trumping Intel’s inventions

Capable of identifying which tree for rodent nests like a magnet

For human invasion and destruction, to later remove armpit sciuridae glands

To extricate that gamey taste

How long would it take man-kind to invent a robot to do the same?

That nature has evolved over generations in the nose of the Cur,

To assist man-kind in symbiotic partnership and all my prayers

For a hope machine are hopeless

Making a to do list of things I can manage to do, not listing the realities

I continually fail to achieve based on the nexus of control seemingly slipping

Always away from me with what a façade a parade no one wishes in their life

A man out on the fringe in the Indian wasteland of an ex wife

A child like an anchor and a hick town like a taker of souls caught by a catcher in the rye

Out here on the fringe of Tangipahoa dreams and Frenchman Street battle cries

There is a convergence held in secret in banishment and anonymous bias

That alive is better than dead and I will try this

Frantic list of mini-quests to stab myself to feel alive in a contrived

Salvo of letting go of staring reality in the face like the sun’s eclipse in scheduled days

Knowing it is coming a thousand years from now, the hour the location and how

Is all mathematics and the spots on the Earth for the charcoal sphere’s zenith

And out goes the light on this birth of escape that there is a manufactured moment

Fully natural and biologically sound to bask in the observance of when and this now

That anomalies of the system can occur that there is a voice and it is hers

Out there in this fated sky, tinker with my own truths to find the faith to believe the lie

That there is a God, that there is a girl, that there is a purpose beyond free will

That this humanity will still be breathing a thousand years from now

To sit on a beach on the bay of Cambay, to ride the Yangtze, across the Ryukyu

This total solar eclipse is just a snapshot of finding a light through

This spiral of stark ebony blanket emitting this dark in the absence of luminosity