We shall be it sinking ever so slowly
into the sea shells
twisting toward hell
That man has all the answers
how to escape the future
trying to ignore the futile.
But you notice the black leafless trees
eyes open to secure a memory
red leaves where you walk the sky
white in a colorless world.
Soma pills might work in the dental chair
no one wants to go over a grinding apocalypse
you are in stained corduroys and no one knows why.
At the winter window you can see the next door maid
but no one is there to witness her vacuum dance-dream
of the next million number.
It is precipitous being here and vacuous
the ocean getting warmer
holidays irrelevant at the bottom of the sea.
