"Big 40" (New poem, 2025/06/23).

The fortieth ant civilization is dying
for me a day has passed
I am the god of a hundred-armed idiot

I climb a mud hut
I look out for the sun from behind a screen of ruins
war everywhere, but for me there is peace

there are new territories, old writers abandon their pens
new writers have nothing to write about
the god of everything is the web
spiders feast on the hand
of one in a hundred

the forty-first ant civilization will arise tomorrow
forty revolutions under the sun
and what else can we expect?

maybe more coffee and hundred-armed idiots
the deities of India cry over the fate of the nuclear moon
which was once the gateway to the Universe