we must sail against the winds

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

I wrote this after watching, Sir David Attenborough, 'a life on our planet'

a slow slag-heap-sun
slips into a
concussed sky

down there where the ice cries

a sixty a day hearse
gnarls it's grilled

watch it. . .

snap, snap, snapping
at the haemorrhaging heels
that st-stumble on
impotent stumps

can you save it,
do you even want to stop the . . .

flailing, falling - thump
as the forest's last cough
crumbles like

inhale it
inhale all

. . .that choking sulphuric-air
as it licks long the
canary's strangled-song

give them up. . .

the lumps of life-clotting lungs
wrung out with the hides
the why, oh why, oh why. . .

yet, in the seamless shadows
his smile is endless

*a fist shakes hard*
. . .and the dark-eyed dice roll quick and fast

"swallow those shards, kiddo"
*a deep breath*

"yes, do it!"
"do it, now!"

and for the last time
in a bobbing bottled sea
and with the
surety of cyanide
a skull capsizes and
. .k

. .s

humanities hollowed chances
now reduced to a
sea-bed-stained sentence:

"eventually, even the parasites
will perish!"

Submitted: December 03, 2020

© Copyright 2021 mr. darcy. All rights reserved.

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