These are my atoms

ticking like clocks,

chiming in flocks.

this is how I know

time flies.

and here I am again,

spirit spent

on trivial things.

diamond rings

and parcels that spring

from clinging desire.

highly unstable,

this half-life–

as my radioactive performance

corrodes the condition of moments

that remain.

so sample my bones.

we all die alone,

turning to dust,

and born once more

as fertile earth,

nourishing the fields

and evening the score

before returning

for the next revolution.