A trophy waits for the man with atrophy of the heart
I’ve never had a hometown place worth going back to
Make no mistake; we reap the wars we make
Lawn, shadow-puppet guises are on us
In, over, and out – there’s a waterfall
Where a shopping mall used to bloom
No one can stop a Dr. Proton
When it’s too late
In June,
Mitochondria might survive
The doom, like movies in our minds
Though it happened all too soon
It’s beautiful
Littering our living rooms
Everclear and gasoline
To encase our tombs
Ash and solar paneling
Purple strobes, minimal
Akin to Catholic robes
Engine drones reverberate
Through wire-sun stone
When cold settles in
And snow begins to fall
You’ll think of living
In days before
You left this world
And, when you write
What you’ve seen, my brother
Be sure to include
A short introduction
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