galaxy as salad

 

the orcas drift across the wide bay between stars and their
sheep of circling planets we
ghost throttle and chase the
vague demons set interspersingly in our way I
know the steady thrum of the CALAX engines each
which could do the job alone but’re
cinched in in the gape of redundancy which’s
the staple of our life
and the co-computer reminds
redundancy which’s
the staple of our life