Cat's Yarn

This planet is the cat's yarn,
unraveling into the familiar vacuum.
He and she can feel it turning,
stretching to its original string form.
Pulled tight across the airless abstraction,
frayed from the feline's claws.

This planet is the branches' cored apple,
severed from the stressed stem.
Released from its nourishing source,
splitting without any collision.
Separated and visibly sulking,
as Johnny collects the seeds.

This planet is the garden's mushroom,
polluted by its own fungus.
Ignorant, yet defiant against the grass,
deserted by its own spores.
Tall in its own meaningless right,
small in the supreme blueprint.

This planet is the czar's marble,
rolling to the uneven ends of the palace.
Picked up by irritated housekeepers,
ignored in order to roll once more.
Stopped beneath our soles,
restricted, bound, and shackled.