Scratchings at the Underside of the Earth (As Written and Spoken on 11/1/10)

Scratchings at the underside of the earth rend the ground from below with inverse furrows, plowing the surface to sow the bleached bones of the ancient dead. They peek out into the air and after a fortnight sprout, reaching out to grasp the legs of crows and kittens, leeching their anima and transmuting it into the festering black bile which nourishes the nascent necrotic flesh beneath, blooming with the putrefying shades of rotten carrion found dangling in vibrant strips from the hooked beaks of stoic vultures, decaying with exquisite perfection into the same forms as the burrows of ants or the intricate paths of slime molds pulsating in livid networks upon the cold, indifferent earth. Resting upon this boundary on both sides, as a thing reflected and its image, do we divide our infinite time between.