Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Science Fiction


The Interface

The interface of electro-volcanic rock emerges with the pure rain water from theJungle.  

Here, then, is the interface--the interface of platform performers to climb trees.

The interface is all-encompassing, cocktails of spin show small entanglements--realms peppered by electron holes and curved electron states battered by infinite degrees of freedom and, finally settling as a  composite, island rock. 

Here is the bettered life. Here is the payoff from a foraging decision of long ago. 

Watching the interface ebb and flow, absorbed magic stays behind as a solitary forager ensuring the last silence of the law. It's a lost entity that searches, it seems, to sell fungus at a fair. (its revenge carries such a deep need it can't be retrieved by logic or formalism--only intuition)

The interface between rock and jungle will simply grow and grow. It will not reach a limit, not ever.

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