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Meditation XX

Once....
life was less complicated
then, the multifarious
involuntary multitude

(man, still subject to decay)

imposed their imperfection
like some base concrete annex
on the city's tall towers

(she
is caught in progression
the disease of time)

the form obscene
creeps, flies, runs, crawls:
grows.

("and this is nature's nest of boxes)

Copernicus kills God
and we are left feeble
hands holding to a pale shadow
gone askew

(the one within another
and so on
to eternity)

information replaces
belief - structures grow
and myth is forfeit
In this age of 'information'
where is certainty ?

(and the common centre to all is
decay; decay and ruin".)


10/3/96

writing

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Inspired by John Donne's Meditation XX