by Pavel Chichikov
Here, take this box old son –
See, I'll pull it apart for you –
Violet indigo green and red
Yellow orange and blue
Seven modes for the compass rose
For the compass rose of stars
Binary triplet neutron pulsar
But also planets like Mars
Reality comes from all directions
You put it together from parts
With help from the maths and sciences
And a dozen or two of the arts
I jammed them together roughly
In a manner of speaking but then
More of them seemed to be spreading about
Increasing by powers of ten
How many colors, how many shapes
Recurrent irregular make
Brains and minds and species of things
The beautiful ugly and fake
Primary colored spectral sevens
Simple in shape in a plane
Now generated a double fetch
Of infinities over again
Pulsing, endless the pieces came
Material mental in one
See, I'll put it together for you
Here, take this box old son
(Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may visit Pavel's website at http://www.greyowlpress.com.)