the trail of bodies behind me, they
look like me, back there
in their little slice
of history,
of particles and space, they’re
shaped like a similar Kevin
in their instant universes
that look like mine.
but between every two kevins,
there sits another kevin, and
none of them are Him.
not the frozen corpses like dominoes
behind me, not
the distant ones so far In front
i can’t even see
the tops of their heads,
nor the end of the line,
not me, no
none of us are the infinite
Kevin, the worm god
of chain link scales,
the carbon galaxy
that lived forever.
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