He apparently believes
that his slightest deed
can effect the whole universe
(right to its fourteen billion year edge)
according to the axiomatic
(and rather problematic)
theory of the butterfly effect.
But this is not just a humble
poet's altruistic concern
for his neighbors---his environment---
and, indeed, as he believes, for his
god's creation: all that is just the
mirrored surface. At its core is the
long prostituted postulate---
that earth, in some centrality,
effects change in the cosmos;
that he, of all the population,
effects change in the earth.
So, at night, instead of some prayers,
he stares at the cloudless sky
(whenever it is available)
and at the fixed stars in their courses;
the planets on their travels;
the moon in its orbit---
and these confirm to him
that nothing he has done today
has thwarted the cosmos
or titled the poles,
or put potholes on the ecliptic.
Then just before sleep overcomes him,
he congratulates himself for voting to
send one of the very antichrists---
that smug sonofabitch---to Washington.
Starward
[jlc]