A child who knows too much
Claims aliens created this living Earth
Maggots, mycelia, mutants and man
Might I question these ancients?
I bow low
He nods, mutters:
If your queries are written for gods
“Were humans created to entertain
Make matter and energy explain
A greater cosmic joke?”
The child stills
I cease to hear what’s distant
Feel nearly as light as light
Lift above the floor
Strolling touch a cloud
Soft, spongy, crackling
Rising too high to know its real height
Racing stars call out
You’re not bystanders
The work is not finished
Best leave before …
The boy breathes out his last smile