Apocalyptic poems, posted every m-f.

how it arrives

the apocalypse –
it comes like the flu,
we all catch it one by one
until, suddenly
it surrounds us

we can barely breathe, or shit
or eat.

we learn the horror of falling outside of
the purview of gravity,
of floating through a world crashing in on itself
of not being a part of this queer
death magnetism.

ghosts
we haunt ourselves,
until it’s clear that nothing’s ever going to change

that they’ll always be dead,
that we never will
that nothing in this world is even-handed

not even gravity.

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