Written 12 November 1997

Anti-entropic endeavors make me tired And the cold wind blows Striving for equality with the sun The heat from the sun Does little To warm my heart. Tiresome, even The effort required To think. And the abyss yearns to become A valley A plain A mountain A planet And the rain Would be snow Would rather Be air And the air admires The substanciality Of the earth. The atoms will mix and mingle The molecules will return To the basest Of substance. And my mind will be The equal of them all: All the same: All the same.