Dark Matter

Nothing happens
Nothing really happens
Nothing is happening now
Nothing happens at the speed of light
Nothing is really something
Nothing really happens
Nothing happens

Materia Oscura

No pasa nada
No ocurre nada realmente
Nada está ocurriendo ahora
Nada sucede a la velocidad de la luz
Nada es realmente algo
No ocurre nada realmente
No pasa nada

Shadow World

The shadows dwell in a parallel universe,

Playing every object for a fool.

Masters of caricature

They run beside children

In exaggerated mimicry.

Court jesters

Dancing, prancing,

Pulling faces.

Shadow surrealists,

Distorting, melting,

Pixilating strange points of view.

Tragic actors, flickering and dying

Strangled by the retreat

Of a camp fire.

Sisters to silhouettes,

The quixotic twin,

Hanging in the backround.

Sweeping like a magician’s veil

Over the city at dusk

To sleep

To wake

To night-stalk with cats,

In the moonshine.

Shadow theatre,

Stealing through windows,

Past trees and Venetians

To play on walls.

Shadow friends

Gentle ephemera

Unpresupposing and reflective.

Shadow slaves,

Imprisoned by sun dials,

To do clockwork.

Shadow world,

Mono-dimensional yet infinitely shaped,

In shifting shades of grey.

Steadfast phantoms

Of mere juxtaposition.