By O'Shannon, I was born
under a looming disaster
A green super-nova given by chance
as it engulfs this cosmic womb
followed this one's primal scream.

In this stagnant darkness
of Man's realities dream
of perfect control and reason.
A silly notion says this Leprechaun,
the world without Man
already has all the order it needs.

What is more stranger than the elf
comes forward as civilised Man
who floats like a temporary bubble between prickly pears
while rushing side to side fearfully
to save it from a real puncture.

The bubble claims distortion
and disorder
far beyond its distant border.
Smiling, I blow bubbles
as this benevolent cause unravels.

"Green is Man
and green is His bubble,
in this old age."
How I try to shake Him awake
while He claims me mischievous.
Yet, I have green fun
with His fragile bubble,
as my frightful benevolence