the space-walk sutra vii

by Paul-Henri Campbell


the space-walk sutra vii

vii. theatrum vitae

in the globe, they knew.
knew what?
that it's a show.
this world.
only that today, charged
with some strange, solemn, and furious existentialist sincerity,
we've lost that sense
of irony
and credit each dream to be a fantasy in wont of reality.
why?
we need a substitute for danger
in absence of depriving and denuding perils.
providence and premonition
are what make slaves of men …
… and make them great.
but let me tell you now:
there's only going to be one
messiah,
and everyone else is simply a resurrected corpse
who willed to be lawful unto the grave,
in order to reach the heavens.

and thus i walk in space,
orbiting in the zenith of my mind's unrest.