shannon apollo

A molecule in a freckle on a spec of dust,

floating in a sunbeam…

Their electro-magna-scopes sends an image.

Jumping eyes, my ADHD in HD,

GPS avatar marks the spot.

I sit on a pillar in the middle of the empty,

the edges just out of reach.

My little blue world…

filled with all we ever did know,

with everybody that ever was…

and is…

and will be…

It all means nothing:

my work, my studies, tears and cheers.

The prayers, good deeds, and scary fears.

Fill up the dumpster with old Wal-Mart Specials,

Along side leftovers and mortgage papers.

Why does it matter?

As I ride this little blue world?

It all ends up at Trash Mountain, anyways.

Decades of gifts, hand me downs and shredded bank files.

Then Mom calls, and I realize:

I’m just a pixel on a dot in a mural of everything,

as another spec floats by.

“Hi Mom!” 🙂