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The corporal, he saw time,
He saw thirty seconds, he saw temporal instance,
He saw the spin, the vortex, the event plane,
Where all else was disappearing, but it was real,
Just like any other object in the book of life.
He was turning the corner into his living room,
He saw the couch become clear light,
Transparent, a configuration of lines,
Blue lines on white background, and at the bottom,
Right hand corner a lined, rectangular box spelled out
Blanks to be composed at latter time,
They read NAME, ADDRESS, PROJECT TITLE.
Corporal walked out of the dream,
He slipped into another familiar space,
He lay upon the bed on his back,
He bent forwards and touched he feet,
He grasped his toes. He was smarting;
He was hurting all over! He suffered!
It seemed every muscle, every joint ache.
My! What a plethora of subjects crossed his mind.
The corporal, he saw every crack and crevice of heaven.
He rolled up, brought knees to chest, and then a flash,
He caught such gigantic power
He broke the bubble and went beyond,
He went way beyond the stars, he walked a field,
The wheat had grown up to his waist,
He ran full speed, and he could see himself,
He could see himself stark, dark figure in the distance,
While he ran, he ran, break neck, towards horizon,
Horizon of black-and-yellow, checker-board-colored sky.
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