Ryan Ganz ’24
There is a piece of meat on the ground
It speaks its last words
It’s such a thing I’ve never heard, so profound
Were its mutters, murmurs and such
They touched my mind more than my heart
I plucked the thoughts from my head, I put them in my hand
And I watched as my hand contorted into the shape of a man
The meat was bright, it shone like life
And its death meant I got to live another night
Its death meant I got to breathe
Its death meant I got to see
The brightness blossomed into such forms—
Forms of its likeness, and something more
More systems, more balls with atmospheres
More gardens where I am free to plant whatever man I like here
Man as in “humans” encapsulated in summary
Man as in, before men and women were a thing
Before people paid attention to different fools
Before they recorded their blues and views
What was it like? A god like me could never know
I am nothing but a force that shifts to and fro