There’s a reason for everything
I’m told. Don’t fall in-
just another ice-covered lie,
a beg upwards from the pit
of remorse and fear.
I want to scratch the earth
one last time-
Before winter comes and
steals away my memories.
I’ll bore it deep and permanent-
a river canyon for a thousand years.
Etched like blood-stained buffaloes
on hidden cave walls,
I want to be remembered,
like Karo syrup and the guillotine-
A perfect blend.
An echo from the past-
a Big Bang.
Radio waves bouncing off
the moon and racing to the
ears of tomorrow’s wiz-kids.
Sturdy like Roman columns-
until the land breaks loose
and rust dissolves wood and nails,
and cement cities of pitiful purpose.
I want to be the pitchfork,
finding the needle
in the haystack.
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