and if you want to live longer 
you'll eat the right cereal and climate 
and the rest of the world  
paved with gold antennas 
builds on the ruins 
of preconditions & the sun 
sets in an almost indefinable sense
of its own marked beauty  
marked by god 
and opposing batters 

*
the old religious morse code 
cigarettes and electric trains 
small enough to breath through
like anything at all creates itself
talking to people
like those enigmatic screens
that force themselves upon haircuts
and bottles of alembic or brandy
distilled in the quality 
of a glossy sunset ((like))
each time you jump 
for the inevitable
calm season