Shear the wool off
sky and man quiver
to the mandible of monstrosities. From above,
any pinnacle looks small. Staring down the chute
of possibility what is determined is
that culture is nothing more than fuzz
on a peach.
to little specks
of source material – that no king can stamp out –
there too, man
searching gaze, to either terrain
aligns with this (aero)plane.
Peering through its window
some equation has paid off.
All it took
was a little shake.