Sophomoric dystopias

The trebled bases of time, the languid
Sophomoric dystopias that fill your livid

Bases mingled with sweet morrows and
Shaded hapharzardnesses climbing out

Of some noons which are shaded with
Syllabyllic time, shepherded once again

With rhyme, bespectacled with the rhythm
Of time, and riddled with the conspiratorial

Factories of many days, many nights and
The leftover grains speaking less loudly 

Only because of distance, a distending 
Distance stretching out because it was due.

Changing the world

Changing the world one axiom at a time, one
Axiom offered at the altar of the sages who

Have pounced on Zeno, pounced too on
Pythagoras, for having enunciated truths

That have nothing do with fact, the horror
Of horrors, the sacrilege of ignoring data.

Changing the world elliptically as prescribed
In the constitution of the repetitive again

And agains swerving the elliptical orbit to
Move onto its center, gravitating left to the

Right of center, to prove once again in its
Againness the repetitiveness of the curvature.

Changing the world one hypothesis at a time,
Undoing one misrepresentation or better yet

Supplanting a suppler more pliable more viable
Representation in its stead, at a time. And giving

Vent, breathing room, walkable-in-a-dangly-sort-
of-a-way space, one cubit of space-time at a time.