Yesterday you were singing
and now you are enslaved
The screen turns "help"
into "having a good time!"
Understory rusts
russet,
birds clap silent
Those cowering hiss from sparks
behind teeth
Those disfigured mass:
It is now their time
When I am so lost,
the well of my desire to see
all life held as a newborn
it is obvious to care for
inverts,
erupts in caustic smoke and
I imagine plucking
my own head from my shoulders
and flinging it to the sky
where it explodes in announcement
I have opened myself to the belief
that this is how I will die
