The Ticks

[Spore]

The Special Place is a spiderweb
And we are caught in its tangle
And for forever the Single Puzzle we will
never cease to unwravel
I am sorry but with the molecule we will have
to intermingle
With The Other we are interchangable
And we intersect with it like clockwork
Into the insectoid alien Otherness we must plunge
or we would not work
Into the interlocking gears as they rotate how
could we not fit?
For if the mystic electrical concepts in our
cortea make the clock tick,
Then the Single Puzzle of Otherness will tick
onward ever after
In ecstatic miraculouse clicking frames in rhythem
for this misfit.

 

[rm-rf]

Ah yes, but whom has stated that the insectoid alien Otherness is all we are able to plunge into? Perhaps we have grown free from those clockwork-gearish confines and have reached the threshold of a new age of enlightenment? Perhaps this is the message we must deliver to the rotating gears, that they are not doomed to fit there and only there for an eternity...
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