let it cook

let it cook

there’s nothing wrong with me because

i’m not me.

i am quite literally the light that is the entire universe;

who drives a Subaru.

from my house at 9000 feet in Colorado to the edge of the

‘known’ universe is 46.5 billion light years away.

46.5 billion x 6 trillion miles would be the distance oh ye like me who might suck at math.

big interval, yeah?

uh.

yeah.

if you were playing football and

wanted to score a touchdown

over the goal line at that edge,

you would have to run 186,000 miles per second and it would take you 46.5 billion years to score.

by the time you spiked your ball and did

your little edwina dance,

the hoped for audience

back home on earth

clappin’ and whoopin’ for thee

would not be human and

would be as different looking from us

as we are presently,

to…

a sliver of bacteria.

also fellow beings, i am captain extraordinaire observer person

navigating the earth game in all its glory

and sadness,

with aplomb,

panache,

and a newfound ease.

i am emotionally elegant, nurturing and kind,

falling in love with the feminine divine.

i am the invisible christ who seeks not,

but he who allows to be

sought,

found,

washed,

fully receiving

then atomized

and whooshed back out into the nighttime sky

to cook.

let. it. cook.

it’s baking up an amazing edward eugene,

lean and mean,

frosty and keen,

gone someday

but here, now:

mr.

serene.