Belief Tectonics Poem by jim hogg

Pangeometry was never going to be big
not on this planet anyway
stuff about random curved shapes
moving in miniscule
over time out of time
means even less to us than the drip
of the time of our lives
in the factory of endless minutes.
Energetic and very hot spinning rocks
- why would that ever matter?

Some creature from somewhere
-obviously way out of here -
so the fighting tribes keep saying
snips the moments into the bits
we've been we're massive in
and boils us in our dreams

Some hope. What if there was?
He made a ball and covered it
with puddles and stones
hooked it up to a heater
forgot to set the timer
and snoozed big time.

And is he maybe watching now
in fast forward for blood
- or moral "growth" -
or a single satisfying surprise
on a billion random balls,
or dancing, high on forgetfulness,
in some timeless zone
between Andromeda
and anywhere
while nomads here
in love with their own
vain jigsaws and impatience,
imagine wonder to come
in some tantalising tomorrow,
and his many peoples competing for grace,
beat the future and their fears
enthusiastically
into their little replacements.