It’s blue when observed in near view.

Though hardly visible in space and time.

But firstly,

What the nature of the blueness?


Our route is only just beginning.

An inquisition occurs

And the stems bleed their triumph.

Is there life on earth?

If so how is its irruption defined?


What we know is very little.

Our sketchy investigations mere scratches

Of the surface of a futile world.

Such is the Rubber of their trees.


The Carbon and all that water too…


Which particulate finger

Pulled the first trigger?

Is it seriously all born out of a simple Singularity

Or is it merely a venture?

And where was God standing

When he lit the match to all of this?


There are incomplete strings

Which hold humanity in shape.

But what of the spiral

That which ticks boxes along the timeline of life?


Had each portion of gene pool,

Been Gifted and by whom?

In tradition,

Each is the holder of allocated expanse

Each is payee of differential expense.



Where are these turtles to be stacked?

Why, pile them beneath this slab,

Where they offer support.

A Flat Earth, to be studied stupid.



A place where conferences can be held?

There is space for them

Cleared in preparation.

The place is near to mirth

On a rover called Earth.

Here there are rides and woes.

There are tides, there are foes.      


© 2018 Christopher Thompson