the large hadron collider
what’s the point of smashing particles in a
machine that goes round & round ad nauseam
I am a greyhound
racing around the track
chasing the rabbit that somehow
runs faster than me
but miraculously I don’t break into
millions of tiny pieces
having given up on the rabbit
I decide to take the form of a roadrunner
running in circles in the desert for no
good reason
my speed increasing with every lap
my body staying perfectly intact
eventually I retire into the night
my body once again changing shape
this time becoming trillions of grains of sand
trapped inside a glass timer
slipping ever so slowly from the top
to the bottom
until at last
I am a mass of nothingness
august two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
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