Star Dust

There was a time when time wasn't,

nor space for that matter/

anti-matter, when every manner

of thing and not-thing didn't,

before the whole dime-bag shebang

blew up in its (non)face-

and suddenly there was place

and separation of thing,

a super-heated flux cooling toward

past, present, and future,

spilling its thinning soup du jour

to an ever-everland,

where deeper meant ever younger,

and we'd look just as young

to anything or anyone

perceiving here from there;

and they as well would show to us,

delayed some billion years,

a face as featureless as ours,

home movies out of space;

thus they or we could bang ourselves

to barrenness or less,

while telescopes revealed a past

appropriate as hell.