Poet And The Age Poem by Dan Uriel

there's nothing in it
as if it were something
but there's nothing in it
like something in this world
swinging in expanding space
in his future
as the foliage, and the sea roars

space is my soul he would go to the big Space
like a balloon to your basket
I tie it to my body
it's not real, it's not a dream
it's called sublimation
my instinct 

come, my friend, come and look
you work in this world
and compassion works in you
you're lying in vain
let it go now, let it go now
look at this evening light from the stars

crying tiny
weak lawn and droop
they sit softly happy
mounds of the corpse
in the twilight