Prince Myshkin

A cosmonaut pollutes a rainbow.
His vision returned to black and white.
Rumors fly of epilepsy.
Those of us who know better
Rally round our fallen hero.
Oil pumps in the desert.
Anti-kryptonite held aloft.
A mind's thoughts could bury a window.
Air turns to ice and we watch.
A unicycle floats by.
A toad croaks.
Salt crystals form.
It is only moments now.
If we were a SWAT team, doors would fall.
Space would collapse and all would be returned.
Dust knows better though.
A veil on her visor.
She looks at us looking.
A path within each particle
Our idea as a witness.

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