Bubbles of galaxies swirl against the black.
The viscous brain is violent and
cannot be opposed by mere pacifism and intellect
says the cosmos, exploding and bubbling,
crushing the expanse with its supercluster thumbs.
The father slaps him, grabs the book from his hand
and tears it in half.
Goddamn useless. Goddamn useless.
The rough man chops the wood
and the soft, younger man watches him intensely.
In the afternoon he picks berries in the woods,
spots a wounded bird in the brush
and crushes its neck with his thumb.
How beautiful. How beautiful,
says the cosmos.
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