in one aeon, out the other

TIME and another box set passes / and you’re still approximately where your cushioned arse is / planted on the sofa with a mug of tea & TV glasses / soupy beard and droopy moustaches / and the earth drifts on through the milky way / in its timeless, aimless universal ballet / and night becomes aeon / and aeon millennium / and you’re only on season 5 of Mad Men / and the oceans rise up / and the sediment piles up / till you end up flat compacted / and it’s a million years till you’re finally extracted / by some neat geologist called Niles McGrammer / who whacks out your fossil with a pointy hammer / dusts off the dust and stammers / I can’t believe how well it’s come out! / my proudest moment without a doubt / the level of detail is quite phenomenal / the remote control on the swollen abdominal… / and you wind up an exhibit in the city museum / laid out with the others for the people to see ‘em / who read all about your vacant look / in the pages of their glossy book / the strange evolution of streaming eye / and why they called you: sofalanthropus claytonii

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