honor thy father and thy mother light-switch cover plate

oh, ridiculous world of
serious faces, taking things to heart
what if this is all there is
does it make it better or worse
how little i am
a crockery jug of
moon and testicular ooze
curved like the banks of a slow river
and faster than light
meager yet brim-full with the pure magic
while my mind hovers just beneath
the meniscus of a grand dream
pulled tight from horizon to horizon
and mirrors only one face back to me
in a drip of resigned old photons
still running screaming from
the crack of the First Whip