How It Will End/How It's Ending

    How It Will End/How It's Ending

The amber lights of our tired factories

  Still dimly aglow out of foggy Habit

As society fades away into reclusive silence

  Out of sheer boredom and Loss of direction,

There's a slow simmer of discontent

  Bubbling up from the Underground—

The vapours waft in our general direction

  As we obliviously, breathe, and Sigh—

Hopelessly shapeless, blindingly transparent

  And motionless without Location—

It transforms, slowly, slyly sneaking

  Into everyone's homes and minds—

Uninvited, it enters our conversations

  Distorting our Natural expressions—

It is everything that came before us, Here

  It's the Nothing, we see, for miles—

It's everything failing, gradually, in Secret—

  With no evident, definitive cause—

No explosions, no crash, no obvious drama

  To fuel some chaotic frenzy—

No!—Just wind—blank stares—evasions—

  Smoke, with nothing to say—

Yes This is how the world is ending

  With none of the Doomsday Prophecies—

No Armageddon, no famine, no world war three

  Just This, and these insipid words—

The Clocks do not keep Time for Us—

  The Clocks, tick to wind down...

No roving mobs, no violent Revolutions—

  We've Lost the desire to fight or dream—

Religion is dead and the shrinks out of work

  For Sanity has lost its appeal.

Warehouses bulge with our Broken hopes

  Our futile inventions sputter and quit

Nuclear reactors Squat safely in silence

  And Zombies have nothing to eat—

The Ending is an Abyss we freefall into—

  It's a thief in the night while everyone Sleeps—

It's the thoughts that you Had,

  When She sat down beside you—

But were Lost in the Moment's Excited Escape—

          

Happy Hour

One dollar off your Inherited Misery!

  Two dollar shots of Instant Happiness!

City-wide specials offering everyone Hope

  For Society's Sobriety and loss of Faith!

                            ~

So call in Sick!—Invite your friends!

  Open a tab and Close the Past!

Turn down the Clock as it All Begins!

  Believe, believe!—the Hour will Last!

                            ~

Choose a favourite Song, and hit repeat!

  Convince, persuade all those who Doubt!

Let Confidence in the Economy Inspire All

  To get a fifth! a sixth!—a seventh round!

                            ~

A mini-Vacation of Intoxication!—

  Is waiting for You every day of the week!

Right Here is where your Failures can Dance

  Right off the Plank of Heaven's Cloud!

                            ~

And Lose yourself in Shameless Laughter!

  Dizzy yourself in Conversation!—

Tell it All!—like it Never, ever was!—

  And You, will Become, a God!

                            ~

And Fall back into the Softer Light—

  The Sun will soon be Down—

Alcohol!—Darkness!—has lifted the Weight

  Out of your Sunburnt Frown!

                            ~

Chaos holds the Controls Tonight!—

  Torrential Pours of Golden Beer!—

All is Beauty through an Emptied Glass!—

  In this Rythm Lies Finite Perfection!

                            ~

Yes!—let the Angels pour you More!—

  But remember to Never Gaze Within!

For Behind the Eyes of any one of us

  The Devil is Dancing in Another's Skin!

                            ~

And watch the Magic Fall from the Taps—

  Only with Poison are we Born Again!—

And there is no Shame nor anyone to Blame

  For Here, we've Drowned out Sin!

                            ~

And the Night is Young!—so let it Ride!—

  Last Call Waits for us like a Fever—

From Time-Drawn Sicknesses we naturally Hide

  But in the Hour, Lies, Forever—

  

  

Drunken Change for the Drinking Well Full of Flies

 (New Year's 2023)

                I.

Hopeless Romantic?—

time to PANIC!—

so set your Clocks

to Not.

and Finalize your Empathy

while the Empire Falls Beneath.

...and Look!—the Birds!—

in Flight, Falling,

as our Explosions

kill and maim—

remember follies

and good deeds Ending

in tears and searches

for Meaning.

—Celebrations loud

enough to deafen

even the Pilot,

         of this Screaming Engine...

What have we Made

that really Stays?—

but Sounds of War

as Children Smile?—

They roll the Dice

we place our Bets.

they have our Hope

we hold their doubts—

we point a finger,

we scorn, we mock—

from Here we Descend,

from Here,    ...we Rot.

Change the Scene?—

what have you to Sell?—

what haven't you Seen

already in Hell?—

sell what IS

not what is NOT—

from This we Descend,

from That, we Rot.

            II.

Reduction to Pity—

shove Doubt aside—

these never commend,

nor coincide

with Perfect Vision—

not Yours, not Theirs—

but watch your back

as the neighbours stare—

waiting for You,

    to Return the Glare.

and sop up the Year

with your filthy rags

and wrap up the Time

with your snotty sleeve

and remember the Rent

was due last week

and the name of the drunk

asleep on your floor.

and remember your Name

when you go back to work

and remember what you thought

Belonging was Worth. 

If it's good it will die

if it's great, ignored—

if it's shit it will reign—

Forever Adored—

from This we Descend,

with Them, ...we Rot.

Diminishing Currents

are Active tonight—

they'll Drown The Conductor

giving Value to Life!—

so Celebrate Now

(but Suffer Tomorrow)

and Remember to Bow

when from This,

               You Borrow.

From Nothing, We Ascend,

                 Then Drop.