The unfulfilled ostrich sticks her neck into the sand
predictably, willingly, desperately.
The unlamented rat scurries deeper into the hole
outcast, excess, scapegoat.
The unloved housewife sinks deeper into her bottles
refugee, adrift, enabler.
The uncanny elephant is careful not to remember too much
Heartbroken, defiant, confused.
The unheeded prophet sheds the dry tears of Cassandra
dismissed, repudiated, frightening.
Cowering before We,
as they are tumble swept through the cracks in society,
*No lifelines or news reporters or midnight princes arrive*
We, the creeping destroyers of our own home, our earth, our roots.
We, the shuddering lovers of power and sex and glory.
We, ecstatic WarDens of an unnaturally preserved future.
We, the slumlords of
We, who will lose everything.
We, who can still choose love.