My Children on the Beach at Del Mar

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These are fragments of myself 
playing at being fragments of myself 
and they will become fragmented themselves 
as like me they become themselves. 

But then all things explode, 
nothing is, all things become, 
not merely changing but expanding 
and not merely growing, progressing, but exploding. 

So my children, fragments 
of a fragment fragmented forever, 
playing pieces of a creation, 
Creation playing with pieces. 

So the born idea 
that ought to have a life of its own 
but breaks into many voices, 
tones, phones, particles. 

So the single decision 
used to define a morality 
making courses of action, destinies, 
cosmic avalanches of effect.

So the quick hand, 
imagination in a linguistic accident,
traveling from eye to mind 
from mind to eye interminably. 

All is not nothing but pieces, 
pieces and process, a wave 
breaking into many waves 
and breaking again at my feet. 

All going, all gone, all lost, 
what was begun unique 
becomes duplicity, trinity, variegate, infinite:
thus genesis is very soon apocalyptic 

with time the maker and the villain.
My God the sun a hole 
a way out we turn it greys 
you’ve closed it you’ve closed the way out!