Tuesday, November 14, 2006

#205: November 14, 2006

When there's nothing left to fuck up, and the clouds
Rain ashes from the burning atmosphere,
When stars wink out like Christmas lights, and clear
Blue skies give place to poisoned purple shrouds,

When tiny creatures turn the oceans red
And drop new fossils toward the ocean floor,
Innumerable black bones litter the shore
And toxic sludge strangles each river bed,

When Earth tires of our foolishness and throws
Our deadly unconcern back in our eyes,
When everything is sick and nothing grows--
When Was becomes the victim of Is Not,
And Consequences overwhelm their Whys,
And God lies dead in His heaven--then what?

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