The Ruins
The new dawn, black,
a summer coming on, but which has
already passed us by,
we emerge from the bunker with
blinking eyes and
we refuse to wear our masks,
the planes dance overhead
in the sky,
celebrating those who
watched all our grandmas die,
and on our screens,
people talk and are talking
and they don't shut up and they
say one thing then they say another
and then they say the contrary and
then they say what they didn't say and
then they say that they didn't say
what they just said and
believe Cult Leader don't
believe your own lying eyes
and yes, dammit all
it is so hard to breathe,
we cannot catch our breath,
down here in the ruins
the ruins of all that we thought we loved.
MR
2020-0521
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