A Useful Edge Between Us

To be able to catch the tumult
Of time, the goggle-eyed leviathan,
With my own heart, let it rip

This tiny net, that muscular sea-thread
Tearing through the miniature seine,
While the gods and giants shout,

Swinging their hammers and spears,
And the tumult of time cuts my lines,
And sinks, and disappears, yes,

Leaving what’s left of the heart tattered,
How pathetic, good friend, One Person,
Cloud wind. Yes. Who doesn’t want that?