Thomas Piekarski

Ice Cream Pie

Thomas Piekarski

1.

If it's nothing to you it's nothing. If it's nothing to me it's everything. Nothing plus everything nets entropy. Entropy minus eternity equals self.

Diurnal excursions included. Nocturnal incisions blind. Whims make final decisions. Maritime dreams exercised.

Rationalization bleeds nations. International the pandemonium. Pain rendered superfluous. Every resurrection a death.

Death polices death. Life packed in ice. Saints marching in. Open the pearly gates.

2.

It skims the mind’s universe, a tiny mote of remembrance that sails indefinitely through fields of genetic telepathy from one generation to next cancelling wrote conclusions science has formerly verified to homo sapiens conjoined with love hate and wonder.

Piercing lucent membranes on the way to nature's temple flora man and animal spawn injecting mutable cadences that defy both time and space replacing what is and isn’t 34

and was once under the sun with something quite unique and at times revolutionary.

Invisible the locomotion applying constant pressure from without and within mini waves through which we’re hurled unprepared so labor to comprehend silent incantations raining throughout the universal psyche that reigns supreme.

3.

If you were to flee where would you go? Gay Paree? Ancient Rome? Back to mother's arms out of harm's way, or into the sunset on a silver sleigh?

Once made escape what would you utter, hip-hip hooray or oops what a blunder?

Either way maybe inclined to run your pants up a flagpole so that you'll feel whole, or perhaps hitch a ride on a pink ocelot and dance with angels atop frosty Mont Blanc, then report to the world what freedom tenders when streaming dreams delight in their splendor.

4.

The homeless are forlorn souls, their sobbing hearts own chagrin whose lives often fall at the drop of a hat like flimsy card houses and ignored by greater society. Yet we like electrified ants interminably rushed, frenzied, our individualism established, plugged in but wired for hype, bamboozled by a sold-out media, and plumbing confusion’s depths demur expecting pat answers to materialize in broad daylight.

5.

As our astonishing new interstellar telescope probes billions of years through a vast universe it faithfully records that which transpired considerably prior to Earth's existence.

Looking back countless eons before homo sapiens tread upon this bright blue orb our only home we would see voluminous hot volcanic rock thrust from its core scorch the surface.

Projecting ahead volcanic rock will once again sear Earth's skin but first our precious atmosphere will be burned off and life consumed.

Volcanic rock spewed everywhere and then the globe engulfed in one

Thomas Piekarski is a former editor of the California State Poetry Quarterly. His poetry has appeared in such publications as Poetry Quarterly, Literature Today, Poetry Salzburg, South African Literary Journal, Modern Literature, and others. His books of poetry are Ballad of Billy the Kid, Monterey Bay Adventures, Mercurial World, and Aurora California.