02 03 Stop Loving Everything: For Those Who Do Nothing About Anything 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

For Those Who Do Nothing About Anything

For an hour the moon blocked by a monolith
further darkens this evening apartment.
I'd prefer the cool moon's full absence.
Not to mention a fuller compliance
from the seasons, be it raw freeze
in January, or heat made permanent
by June, rather than this shibboleth
of dust and sunburn we call November.

I typed this poem down a search engine
like a corpse rolling a newspaper cone
to holler regrets from within his coffin.
Bodies will float by our windows.
Our bodies will float by windows.
The decline of a nation begins in its homes.

The Drones - Jezebel (maybe live)
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