Linear Recollections

It started here, on this number line, and it’s marked by numerals,in circles and squares. And it ends here.

In fact, however. . .it never began, and it never ends.

From the prisons, to the flower gardens, to the planetariums. . . .

The enclosures just change form, like you and me, and thought, delineates, all the vast distances, and distinctions between us.

“Not my culture, not my fault line.”

The landscape is changing though and it’s getting warmer. . .but it seems more like hell, than a sunny day at the beach.

Unless, it’s about a hundred and thirty degrees Fahrenheit, and you’ve run out of water and food and the ocean just rises-up and swallows you whole.. . .

Then it’s like a day at the beach.

Go ahead. Build a windmill.

I dare you.

Eat your vegetables. I’ll see you around. . . .

Let’s meet again, six million years from now, when we both crawl back out of the boiling sea.

Good, then it’s a date. I’m looking forward to it.