i wonder- do words imitate ideas because words are incapable of containing ideas, because the idea transcends the words used to describe it?

do you ever notice that life always seems to give you just what you need to realize an idea?

idea itself is a beautiful word- one of the few in the grouchy old English language,

although,

good work with ubiquitous, and bizarre (and whoever came up with papaya).

life saves itself up,
it seems,
and can be hoarded
i suppose

but what fun there?

when dancing
at a festival
comes into my mind

it's 3am
no matter what

and what's in front of me
may vanish,

at last, into the mighty Hubble
telescope

because science will save us i'm sure
because science is infinite
like gas.