Gregor

Cascading spider eyes
   Colliding galaxies in midnight skies
      Forty-thousand light years away,
         Sixty-billion quarks on the head of a pin.
Seventy-five dollars a month,
Just to keep the signal coming in.

Milarepa, caterpillar of the Himalayas,
Sat in a cave
Ate nettles
And swallowed the cosmos
In a single gulp.

Gregor, my friend,
I hear you are thinking
Of ending it all again.
Please consider,
It’s entirely possible
There may be no where else to go.