World

And the world appears in the moment and disappears as a handful of earth, in its lip-smacking flavors and slurps, some sounds later,a truly trite silence. Silence matters to nobody or to God.

We keep yapping about golden silence. Silver version is average Adam’s apple going up and down ,in indecent haste ,something of a woman-induced effort in a garden of mischievous serpents.

Actually world never happened except in a night’s sleep, as somebody’s dream in the cloth-cradle ,as a bundle of sleep, as electric fan whirred above ,to breeze the bawling bundle to sleep off dreams.