brandish your fearsome weapons against the knight; i saw a man made of hollow space be swallowed by a noisome dark & from within the empty man knocked hard against the curves of space, punched holes & gaps till at last inside the dark was an immense vacuum & then pop! the something burst & there was nothing, & that was how the void was born. i slept with bear rugs pulled tight to my chin & the buzzing that underlay the all-around was a slow, breathing beast of war, the blood roaring in my eardrums was its song, the sound of creaking, settling foundations & wind in trees. you would think a chain-saw would be cliche? but a chain-gun, a chain-sword, these things do terrible things in the holds of ships plying through space their trade; no holes are rent in the hull but instead just dollops of groovy red sent spraying, globules forming short-lived solar systems. all the lazy games we play. the forgetting cannon & the forgetting canon, brought to opposite ends of the field to be fired. the fall, faster & faster, into the towers below. the big black glaciar of magog, called home by some for a little while.