Imaginations play a trick: infinity and zero
Relatives are lost in a tree, aflame
Conviction, a menace to the middle
Aground on the shoals of the tidal wave
Not of the moon, but of earthquakes
Dislocation has coordinates, specifically
Totality has partial measures, measurably
Containers of idols, melted down: bricks
To build new cathedrals, Babel-height
Each particular assertion beyond particularity
Yet made up of bits, pieces, carnage
Finality defies the life of time
A permanent fixture, relative to our transience
Attempts to dominate the permanent will end up
The difference between these two relatives
Infinitely far from possible
Roman Ryan 