on the origin of

there’s purple-mauve from nowhere and from nowhere a mauve stream issues shadows tune the violet stem to murmurs murmurings buddy bud bud ’cos

spunk slipped past thought skipped schemes its rich head wrigglers jacked in milky skeins through gradients one merged the giant globe rises through the transept of all possible praise ’cos

every accident is frozen1 every event locked forever in the database of all that was so why do I spend this time energy trying to reinvent the…

drum roll…

past? ’cos

yeah, it’s not an unrealistic captain’s call late in the closing quarter merely trying to invent my little version of ‘how this game goes’ in the present never mind ‘what comes next’ for now is now is

Easter Saturday and all of Melbourne’s stop start traffic2 to the shack shops footie roos dogs get to family mum dad lover lonely COVID kids it’s Holy Saturday holy smoke windscreens dissolve in light for what comes next? the furnace resurrection redux

a moment too soon for us as in all moments and no time returns ’cos


1. See: What Froze the Genetic Code?
2. except for us