Judgement Day.

A million-million millennium  domes,

the year is 2010

and I am a Judge,

Father Christmas

or in the clouds.

Heat rises as the downpour

of heat


causing the clouds to rise to attention

higher and higher

until they are a jury of mountains,

created by fountains.

The only leaky tap is my nose.

This unknown creature

glides over my skin,

intimate like a lover,

and looks up

with its billion eyes

staring and accusing.

So many eyes,

all with slightly different

and slightly skewered reflections

and perceptions of the truth.

The heat is on

and clouds the mirror

of the small society

created by Radox.

A wet knife can not slice away

the many miniscule details

that make Santa’s beard

but a dry pointed finger can out rule a Judge.

The plug is pulled on this court case.

I rise.


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