Sullen trees still stand for something.
Low craggy branches have seen things,
Held this and that,
Furry, bald and scaly.
They watch in the quiet air taking
Sheets of milky silver
A plate of milk spiked with mercury-
that’s the backdrop to all of this.
Soon it will all crash down,
Burn through those observant branches.
Let’s toss up something else,
Watch it all shatter and fall
On dusty streets
when you start to wish for a van
to knock you down,
Snap some bones.
A trip down some stairs,
That’s when you know the end is coming.
you’re finally onto something.
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