The stars are dead

The stars are dead tonight.

Each molecule is wrapped

in a cellophane mist,

and pressing too hard on my skin.

It’s airless down here

– this can’t be healthy.

Our long memories are quiet

and it’s a little too easy to clear our conscience

because consequences of time

are not spelled out,

wordless, in the sky

– this can’t be good.

It’s making my heart beat

too fast to feel sane.

It’s getting mighty cloudy with our defiance

against the nothing,

of ever nothing,

terrifying- this is not right.

The lights won’t shut up,

the beaches are dirty,

the waves are black and crashing,

my lungs are choking,

with too many plastic cups and fast laughs.

I can’t hold on to

our mutual agreement to agree

on what we see.


Somebody, please sing.


Image by Josephine Cardin

Image by Josephine Cardin


One thought on “The stars are dead

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