Rob Schackne #33 - Bashō Was A Snowball

Bashō Was A Snowball


I just wrote a poem
about reaching space
at the speed of light

Three bags full of
cock and steam. I guess
that's all. Empty shovel

We'll remember
every memory to forget
the ones that are special

Enlightened thought
the chance that physics
has always waited for

Each possibility exists
somewhere. The translation
looks into a cold mirror

Bashō was a snowball
sharp-shooter of hats. But
that was then. It's still winter

I'm still writing. So
are you. The next one
comes at the speed of light.