The Universe Is a Small Life Looking Out

Empty cans of Liquid Death
Decorate a shelf with skulls.
The night spider on the floor

Cautiously patrols its world.
Dusty lamp-lit box of room,
You’re a cosmos to yourself,

And so is everything else.
Continuous, intrinsic
Brilliance in variety,

The universe carves details,
Horror vacui, cornered
In every atomic world.

It’s all emptiness, all full.
Spider reached the windowsill.