this the epitaph

at best
we have a loose
grip
on things.

at worst
we are hurtling
through
space
and time

tum
bling
out
of
con
trol

full of ideas
about how
things
are
or aren’t
or oughta be.

but the beatific
chaos
bows down
to no man.

it speaks only
the two-tongued
language
of adaptation
and assimilation.

adapt or die.
this the lesson.
this the cornerstone.
this the epitaph.