Collapse into Dust (a poem)

when I’m most vulnerable

i seek the city

not looking for pity

or rations in dark sanctuaries

under dubious skies

these eyes see coming fires,

desires of nursing-home elders

who know the exact moment

they’ll collapse into dust &

be shoveled into mass graves

of communal amnesia

(Photo by Adam Kring on Unsplash)

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