there comes this time
like the inevitable wave that rolls in,
like the inevitable wave that rolls out;
this absence of a presence,
this presence of an absence;
and we are lost in the crowd,
and the crowd is lost with us.

i cannot accept the undesireable exorcism
that casts out life and lives like scrap,
rolling toward the end of the conveyor belt,
dropping piece by piece to the crucible,
to be forged into nothing;
at least nothing worth while,
just spare parts without me,
without you –

empty bits for the next universe.