Stephen Williams
The Age of Reason
We know our nightmares terrify only ourselves. No one else. That's why they're terrifying.
What matters most is what is called into play. And you are called into play every time.
That homo erectus was hiding in the dumpster again. I shooed him off with a baseball bat, told him if he's not careful they'll crunch him—I acted it out with my hands—in the garbage truck.
Be careful, I said, I got a stick. Be careful, you got a stick, he's got a stone. That's his whole thing.
The mayor has fished hundreds of golf balls out of the lake, she said moving side to side in her chair as she spoke.
People of history, ancient and modern, this is my horse Carnival, like me made of air.
How cool and clean the future is, how benign, how much like an idea the future is, she said reaching for the pause.
If he's defined by his stone tools, we're defined by our cameras, our polymers, our chickens, our Chevys.
We're defined by our stairs. By our fires. Carnival travels the zodiac like thunder.
Curtains blew in the window. Congress has voted to renew the precipice. The Director of Decision Sciences will see you now.
Matter has a crease in it.
Draw a lyric block. This will represent the category of the "nonetheless sacred."
Draw a lyric block. Draw a green flame.
Draw a lyric block. There are multiple eternities. You take comfort in this, though you don't believe it.