A full minute (inside the chemical notion of your own head)


There are three distinct noises you can hear,
not Father, Son, nor Holy Ghost by any means.

There is a low tone which is all of your thinking,
an intermittent note, your heart beating,

and a hundred thousand chemical termites
for every worry and lust particle,

every rapidity, every hope that still remains,
there inside your otherwise perfect head.

It is a simple collection
accelerating towards its conclusion at the moment you do.