Accuser of the brethren
What is here for me is what has gone before
From a time of desktop publishing
I absolve you of memory
But condemn myself to obsession
The slaughterhouse and the joy to burn
Dead letters from the apocalypse society
These are the peaks in the deluge
But there are those that drown in nostalgia
Maudlin, the fatigue of future past
Rage, putrefaction
Pain and the forgotten
The season of the dark
Dreams of end times
Love poems to loss
Hippos are more dangerous than lions
Old science fictions masquerading as progress
Tales of working-class dystopia
Lessons never learned from a lack of hope
I see you, yet I choose the ignorance of the times.
Word Outlet 