Forced Perspective from Immersion by Identikit

Lost little gnostic
making manifest a destiny,
etching out a time and place.
And projecting this caustic
renders a retraceable recipe;
anchor latched on empty space.

What sorcery -
this orrery,
releasing me?

Unincarnate, I shine;
hydra-headed polycosms emerge,
we yell, "Look at that fucker Dance!"
See how my other half lives!
...half lives.
Is it too late?
(It is too late - it was always too late.)

In half lives, I missed the immersive:
identity's inanimate riposte;
Gödel's long, weary sigh.
Forced perspective;
negative space's substance lost
on the all-seeing eye.

What cruelty,
this orrery
of orreries.

• Experimental
• fusion
• klezmer
• prog
• progressive
• Atlanta