Err on (a poem)

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Nothing else matters—
strings of Apocalypta,
end-time melodies.

A rustling of quant and quark—
insurrect orders,
inverse meta-units,
branched in no certain order.

Crack—
the light, and superposition achieved.

State fixed—
or so it seems,
long enough
to feel it.

Lock, entangle, bond—
up the lattice like light,
a hyper scaffold,
just like our brain predicted.

Snap into a SlimJim—
wild life claws out.

Climb that hill.
Come at me.
I’m ready
to die on it.

Don’t do it—
slow-motion trigger
of a train wreck.

Exploding,
messing up the tracks,
scattered cargo,
shipments in disarray,
units of value
spilled out
onto the landscape.

What is it?

Did anyone catch that?

I missed—
everything.

I was too busy spinning—
insane suborbital asymmetric structures.

The velocity—
I’m in a good current,
winding gravity wells.

You feel me?

Riding gravity wells,
waves,
signal—
something spiritual about that,
yeah.

God,
Maranatha,
come quick
and turn this economy
on its head.

Send the Four Horsemen
on that corrupt system—
and let it be followed
by a thousand years
of peace.

Bible-level vanquish.
Conqueror, after all those bad folks.

Advocate for the weaker—
that’s the side
I want to err on.