Third angel is too big to fail! Third angel is released
in a shrieking glass net of light into space! irreal space!
Third angel is what is between us, nothing! nothing!
and I watch his departure in confusion and something like awe.
That is what was born of us, then,
that metaphysical tangle that roams the internet and wraps itself
around telephone wires and twines itself around TV cables,
never touching, invisible sheath eating equity and other assets.
He is insatiable for the insubstantial,
and each day we worry as the holy numbers on the screen go lower and higher.
Third angel wears no one's face: he breaks images into perfect fifths
and dances five markets around on strings.
Third angel is just how much nothing
there is now, how much our revelation angels
lied lied lied!
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