decomposing our theory of everything as not poem.
why not?
who's paying attention?
what are the rules?
not poem as report to the committee.
there is no committee.
there is only the product of a mind gone mad.
too long a time at sea it would seem before washing ashore on an island in the eye of a storm raging on an otherwise calm sea.
the sea is humanity.
you see?

no, probably not.
what can we do to help you?
it would seem nothing is of any use.
so we continue.

he is as he is and nothing's gonna stop him from being that no matter who or what he leaves behind - or who or what leaves him behind.
though he has little idea of what he might be.
it's not like he's on a mission or anything like other people.
a mission for what?
a mission for croutons.
a mission toward heaven.
a mission to the bottom of the bottomless pit disappearing perhaps into endless infinitesimally into oblivion.
what fun.

waiting for the latest news from the front of the back against the wall.
ECT for everyone!
everyone in their place in space and time.
musical chairs.
who stays in?
who is out?
we are them.
let it be.

on/off location of spacetime.
a continuum between.
he thinks sometimes he is a dreamer of the world.
it's scarier than one might imagine.
one is also trapped within the dream and subject to it.
he thinks sometimes he is an idiot.
that's probably more likely.

so the idiot tells a tale.

once upon a time they all lived happily ever after.

until...