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. 

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