paradox – poems 2 die for

AM

am a machine
for producing paradoxes
within paradoxes

koan-type questions
such as
what is the afterlife
after
the afterlife?

what recursive equations
find themselves embedded
in the structure
of everything

here I am under a tree
but it is not a tree

with you
but it is not you

but a shape so glowing
pure with love

though
it has to be you
could well be anyone
anyhow anything

nothing
and every single thing

wealth is quasar
wealth is
ball of frozen ammonia

titanic ringed would be
archetype of
liquid methane gas

wealth is the paradox out there
for your, my, our,
their
eyes only

wealth is ever spiralling
golden fractal pattern

is, as Blake did put it
universe of mystery
in a
grain of sand

yes, Morpheus
we are puzzled

we walk down
a straight road but

it is actually
a labyrith

the sponge that
doubles as a computer

is soaked in quantum juices
rife with
such tunneling

as you
could not possibly believe

were it not
           as you
                       guessed before
we got
     here

swallowing your tail

were it not
quite obviously

for the tunneling itself