Tonight, stars are falling,
Over Chicago, New England, Texas,
From angry east to angry west,
Dark cars: hearses that we don't call hearses
Roll silently towards lively, warm houses,
And as they roll away,
The stars fall away,
And the sky is black
People, bright spots!
Crowd the streets! Block the hearse!
Populate the dark earth, so that our reflection in the night sky
Will be twice as bright as any stars ever could be.
Do you feel your head unspooling into the universe?
The ends of the string are fraying at the edges,
irreparably stained with the stardust at the ends
of the many worlds you stretch across.
Yes, Alice thought as she drifted deeper into sleep from within that lightless and beautiful place, make it stranger now. Make it all new again.
My very favorite poem is an inarguably terrible one. I do not know its name and do not care to find out if it has a name.
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