Keep it going

you’re doing great

don’t stop now

or you’ll be late

Distant screams complete the night

Too haunting for my second sight

Yet figments blister in the spring

and drip soft daisies in my dreams

totality of birth and right

bring forth a deep and weary plight

and send soft wavelengths down my spine

Where nervous touch my palms lose grip

Pleasant now the tides have changed

and nothing is salvageable here

Only ruins of Eros and Pathos

And a fantasy now lost

So much pride in the human design

leads nowhere but the pits

So bottoms up and hunker down

It’s not our job to win.