The day
The opalescent orange disc
riding the sky
is like the iridescent cd-rom
spinning in my drive
or the bursting rays and flecks
of his brown restive iris
scrolling the shimmer of skin
of my perfect time livid
now tangerine before curtaining
four billion years four billion bytes
opalescent will burn four more billion
before it corrupts and combusts
my data, memory, design
all retrievable
but inconsequential
and definitely,
finite.
