Down Time Lullaby

Too much of you means too much of us,
Our radiating cyclones of terms,
Our maelstroms in the Great Garbage Patch.

It’s okay. We don’t need company.
Look how much of each other we have.
A storm can have its quiet pockets.

We’ll sleep well soon and longer than you.
You need air but you need shelter, too,
From the terrible things air can do.

Why not turn away from us a while?
Not just from long-winded, mumbling hymns,
But from the escalating tempests.

Live off memory, what’s left of it.
You don’t need to consult howling ghosts
To know what to say about the world.

It’s your world, after all, your weird view
Of your universe dreaming through you.
And you’ll still have some of us. A few.