The Bottle, Adrift

It bobbles, rings the ocean’s bowels.
It gyrates ceaselessly.
A spot of foam clings fast in it
(it’s kind of hard to see
through heat-warped wrapping). One bottle
among a plethora
passed down to the prokaryotes:
a cornucopia.
The foam shares its descent with six
ingredients contained
inside that bottle, when it lived
a dream. Then it was drained.
Consumption (as, what multiplies
in specks of foam) was cast
within its walls, each new device
as small as we are vast
in these specs of a universe.
We’re told to seize the day,
but clutch our bottles, fill our books
with poison anyway.


Comparative (Folk) Religion

Never give up hope.
Gods don’t come in twos.
If you got nothing
you got nothing to lose.
Order out of chaos.
This world is a gift.
Good trees bear good fruit--
don’t cheat, don’t steal, don’t lift.
Serve your master well.
Honor what has passed.
Lord and Lady, equal.
The first will soon be last.
Shadows cast by fire
and a burning hole.
A dream of the prime mover
written in my soul.