He looked out across the dark brown smoking landscape
regret, foreboding and fatal acceptance filled his aching head.
There was nothing that could have been done
everything could have been done
but the dancing greedy fools had said ha ha no no
there can be no ending we will last forever
come eat drink and indulge in all your lusts
there is no ending ever ever.
The fools had stopped dancing long ago
and were huddled in the corner saying I told you so
holding out their hands seeking pennies of redemption
mumbling you should have done something
let’s take a vote.
He peered over at them all ragged now and stinking
with the rest of us a barnyard smell of goats
and sheep alive in their own droppings
and felt a deep guilt maybe we could have done something.
But it was too late as he stood and waited
for the last breath the final oxygen molecule
to desert them for better places.
He collapsed into a heap from exhaustion fell asleep
and dreamed of rotting food, hurricanes,
ethanol, coal, bovine farts and Spotify.
The dancing fools stood up in defiance
and shook their fists at the sky
where they thought god might be
and screamed fuck you this is all your fault
you should have finally fucking intervened
you apathetic all powerful bastard.
The sky replied with a profound silence, as always.
She looked up from her newspaper and asked
does a quark make a sound when it dies?
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