Wednesday, February 1, 2017

canto 12, line 43

Gritted teeth,
we stare into the void:
night, dark, and nonsense.
Order led us
to this pit-point
and now decays,
mauled in the maws of
impotent, vacuous,
non-existent vacuum--
"Nothing" is a frozen giant
chomping empty souls.

We have followed blindly to
ove convien che di fortezza t'armi
staring into Satan's bloody slobber,
wind blowing from the hell mouth,
scatters all shallow anchors
ersatz foundations gone.

Wisp world has crumbled.
No flimsy tree shelters eyes or
provides barricade to hide behind.
We are naked,
bare, alone.
Our feet caught in mud,
marked with death:
the inconsequential end
will eat us
all in an enormous dark.

No Virgil intervenes between us and
utter singularity of universe,
the bare ground of existence
is exposed and it
is empty.
Who can harrow our nothing-place?

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