The light plays tag with the leaves and wind outside,
while somewhere in my home,
DNA rests securely in the voids and no-man's land of
discarded toenails and lost hairs amongst the shag carpet.
People's lives criss-cross each other and intersect
along points in timelines
as they move in and out of each other's immediate field of vision.
Humans are across the street
(I know because I can smell them.),
locked away in the imagined safety of apartments;
eating Taco Bell and watching their favorite T.V. show;
safe from the approaching bed time
and the morning of work that will surely follow.
Above them, people are fucking;
joining together in desperation.
They make animal noises and pass lies to each other through quivering lips,
all the while getting further from what they really seek.
I keep trying.
Concentrating on one thing, and only one.
Everything I have ever done, seen, and heard has prepared me for this moment,
this task of monumental proportions.
I make my play,
and light the fuse that will bring it all to an end.

by Chuck Endsley