Longitudinal Study
From far away,
you begin to understand me:
not a rage, a storm or a declension of narcissistic poetry
but something else.
Not even an Orientalised cannonball,
or a stray hyperachiever, running through his own self-created hell:
someone else, whose vibe
clangs like the ringing, lunar bell
after Apollo 12. All’s well that ends well
and this Dreamtiger, for some reason
has such an inviting and lingering psychoemotional smell.
Lift the pheromones higher;
the notes strain, and become a little brighter.
Who is this, who is not god, or divinity, or even any kind of fighter
but at the same time, around him
how does the world grow ever so lighter?
How does spacetime condense, and expand, and change, into something no longer defined in heightened
fear. Loneliness. Horror. Terror.
Invited
into the space?
No.
This is the Merlionsman’s Gaze of the Gay:
you are loved, and honoured, and respected;
you are part of night, and dusk,
and dawning day.
So set up the cameras.
Microscopes, test tubes. Get the fellas
to lower the sonar. Hook up the PRAT. The LIDAR
and begin the scan.
Begin the reading.
Begin to ride the Kristang tram
that tinkles merrily along its own slow, meandering way:
a better world is finally observed by itself.
A greater, more rational universe is finally here
to stay.