Bottom Dweller

I sit on the Bottom,
Bottom of the Valley,
Valley of Universe,
Universe, and Time.

Looking over Mountain-Peaks,
All I see is Mountain-Peaks,
Underneath the Mountain-Peaks,
Blindly making Rhyme.

Cross-legged at the bottom,
Bottom of the universe,
Sitting, wishing that I,
Bottom-dweller,
Might clear my sight line.

Stone-fenced Mountain-Peaks,
Mountain-gates of perception,
Gates with no door,
And the world is not fine.

Bottom-dweller, Falsehood-feller,
Fallacy trees are but toothpick curtains.
Mountain-Peaks hide things better,
Than subtle woods of pine. 

Bottom-dweller looks up and sighs,
At things he cannot scale
Or even measure.

Bottoms Up.