You wanted space,so I brought you up whereplanets are welcoming,stars are endless, andyour future is constant.   I waited down herefor space and time to combineinto whatever you needed.   But you got comfortableand decided you wanteda life with

Brief respite atop my porcelain throne,I’m king of the degenerates.Return to the clang and clatter of droppedand raised hydraulic scorpion pincers.   Bend, lift, place, ride.   Shrill clarion cries form a sonorousand imposing orchestra, like free jazz sped