Frozen planets, whose trees no longer sway
Stark, motionless concrete chill where winds have died and all is still
Echoes of the ghosts of life, like the gusts of a leaf taunting gravity -
In its descent from naked, outstretched bark genitalia
In awkward angles against the slate blue skies -
The blue of haunted warehoused machines
Who long for lives that they wouldn’t know what to do with…
“No sunsets here
Just rotations of different distant moons and skewed melting of lights hue
Burned out stars, like butted cigars
Pieces of shattered homes, oceans misled into suns.”
Divisive sciences come and go – lost signals in sullen grey glow
(Your empty words.)