Apocalyptic poems, posted every m-f.

care and mercy

in the future,
you make up for what you lack
with what you don’t lack

the ugly man who can still make grain grow
ceases to be ugly;
he is the Grain Man.

he gets all the pussy he wants
and wakes up, slender arms wrapping him in love

our wants get lost in a sea of needs,
but the apocalypse tends to all of our needs.

in that regard: the future is an anomaly

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