Nothing Notes

Come, Sister,
Fill my head with nothing notes.
Plant your static in the orchard
And douse the crop with cellophane.
Give Saturn something to weep for,
Charging the Nymphs and Lepers of His command
With the task of your destruction.
Let the Galleons synchronize their motion
To the buoyancy of this therapy.
Transcend Dimension.

In every 15 millimoments
lies a moment:
an instance with an assigned message
interweaving synapses
forming.
Megamoments.
Yes, that's right, Megamoments.
We've got some fucking monsters out there.
Anywhere from 15 seconds to 120 years,
They are ever expanding birthday party balloons
Or perfectly constructed bubbles.
They clear volcanoes and drown belugas,
Shatter atoms and split crystal.

You're spending far too much time painting portraits.
You've missed the skeleton entirely.
Take a canoe to the mouth
And drink from it's nectar.
Swing from the firesets and
Sing with the nightflies.
Your garden leaves me weary,
and I fear your nothing notes
and millimoments
may suffocate with me
in the cellophane.