Were we to see only what we exclusively defined
as the things that really matter, we’d stay still in a
space we created: yes - we’d live our lives aware
of whom we are - but any idea of where we might
be in times relativity would be evasive, tho there’s
greater purity our basements are overfilled with a
lifetimes trash - from which we’d need colostomy
to survive, & we’d bare our souls to ourselves for
There’s no-one else to share with in this place we
fabricated out of our fantasies - their existence or
being is not part of our exclusivity, and there were
no extenuating materialities embraced: - were we
less creation of our own erudite gaffe-collection in
impious post-haste, we’d be another’s lewd idea
© 9 June 2017, I. D. Carswell
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