There was all the time in the world

but not for mortals

our perishable beings

in the peril of our

crow black era

the human condition

all alone desperation

spreading worse than cancer

we look for answers

in our suffering

accept death

for all its worth

we are just dirt

recycled waste

burning the pyre

of our own existence

the tender bending

of our binding blindness

everyone is on the edge

of the tides

waiting to tip

or take a sip to drown

all of our feelings fleeting

one last dream

to forget it all

and if you asked me

if it was a waste

I would misplace

the answer

or put an exportation   date

on it

give it to you  in the form

of a fortune

and have you meditate on it

flash bulbs excite for seconds

the smell of gasoline takes the air

in a sea of cactus

the sirens inebriate all thought

and you are lost in the void

beyond sense