Her newborn cyclops had my eye
but i knew i'd never claim it

i was taught not to claim
when the wind
wrote my name in the water:
waved blueness over blackness and i
at that moment i saw
that blackness would die
but not me
not we
in the deep blue abyss
we kissed on a current
and drowned eternities in loves' lost lagoons
she had hidden rooms in her womb
where i had seen screeenings of her future
wrapped in swaddling clothes
and God knows i wanted to kiss it
but my lips were sealed by time

...Saturn's Rivers overflow
with schools of frankincense
and myrrh-maids: swimming scents of self to the soul
and sphinxes, they swim, in Saturn's rivers.
drenching the waters with ancient magic
and the secrets of the Saturn Sutra.
secrets that could name the future and
saturate the soul with stardust nd samba of the seasons untold
the future in Saturn's rivers
so i sailed my soul through the fore-thought of the forgotten
and waded through windows of time...

i'm certain of
Saturn's Rivers
and all else is fact

so baptize me in the stars
and wrap me in the night-time moon blue

pupil my sight with orange balls of light
and echo my plight through the corridors of metaphor
what else are we living for
if not to create fiction and rhyme
my purpose:
to make my soul
rhyme with my mind

over

matter
minds create matter
minds create fiction
as a matter of fact
as if matter is fact
matter is fact
so spirit must be fiction
science-fiction
art-fiction
meta -fiction