Thursday, October 6, 2005

Pretty River    to Sam Pretty River in flat space meanders, turbid with dark matters, building shoals of star-forged dust. Pretty River's fish are burning, trailing cold fire in their pretty wakes. Are you alone in the dark, dark enough to see? Pretty River sparkles with no fault stars and we underlings resolve them how we will, with myths or mirrors. Pretty River murmurs and hisses. They that have big ears will hear rumors of cosmic kisses and near misses. Pretty River rolls like dice; on its stars you cannot map the same myth or tell the same story twice. Pretty River has no morals to apply. The quantum of fate exhibits randomness to a high degree. Pretty River is a quarrel in which all parties agree. Sums over history do not solve the mystery. Pretty river is not a river you can cry, it just keeps rolling on 'til all its deltas epsilon, and all the seas gang dry. And all the seas gang dry, ether washing clean the firmament Pretty River runs on and runs off. © 2005 Dana Pattillo 10:10:37 PM    comment []

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