I'm a shadow

I am a Shadow. I come from other ages,
from the cosmopolitan dawn of monads;
a polyp of hidden, inward chambers,
a larva born of earthly chaos.

I rise from the darkness
of the cosmic secret,
from the substance
of all substances.

The symbiosis of things keeps me whole.
Within my unknown, boundless monad
trembles the soul of every turning motion.
And from me, all at once, arise
the health of subterranean forces
and the sickness of illusory beings.

Suspended above the roofs of the world,
I do not know the accident of age—
that learned leech, Senectus,
which, without spending even a virus,
yellows the paper of existence
and carves the anatomical misery
of the wrinkle.

In social life, I carry one weapon:
the metaphysics of Abhidharma.
And without Brahmin scissors,
like the bent back of a passive beast of burden,
I bear the subjective solidarity
of every suffering species.

With a little daily saliva,
I show my disgust for Human Nature.
Decay is my gospel.
I love the manure, the foul remains of kiosks,
and the lower animal that howls in the woods
is, without a doubt,
my elder brother.