• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12


What are we balancing,
Is it the world on our shoulders?
As we spin like tops
Round and round
Dizzying, losing track of time.
Who watches us from above?
Who waits to topple us?
We encroaching hinterlands
that don’t belong to us
we invading the space
that swallows us.
We getting in over our heads
We toying with everything.
We assuming that god has
A human form,
What if he is a lion?
Or if he is three eyed
All seeing yet alienated
and blinded
By the sight that
he spies on.