Poetic Beauty
X=0, Y=0, Z=0
by Paul D. Sprague

I float in eerie surrealism at the center of the universe, above the grassy field.
My splashy neon strip-laminated carbon-fiber inversible quivers in anticipation.
I release it in precise, artistic slow-mo.
It redshifts instantly into full impulse, screaming electromagnetic day-glo arcs across the crackling horizon.
It shatters the air, shards of leafy sunlight crashing in its wake.
It follows the plan, predestined with the FAA since the Dreaming.
It banks and levels, seeking zero coördinates, seeking fulfillment.
I lunge at the one tangible object in a psychedelic free-spinning vortex of sparks and primitive stick figures.
And the world is at peace; I've caught my boomerang.

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Changes last made on: October 28, 2005