phenomena arises,
sustains in part
common gross mind throughout.

back to the future
don’t exist,
like santa,
his helpers,
and his kids.

things decay,
returning to the sky,
like carbon dioxide bubbles
aspiring to fly.

all choked,
none helped,
“cosmic tragic”,
this autistic joked.

this is earth
mass extinction.

will hominids survive?

the insects might be ok,
they’ve survived a lot,
they say,
small mammals maybe,
some stuff in the sea,
a tardigrade or two,
swimming in poo,
birds probably.

they eat insects,
and grubs
and have fluff.

any bigger than tabby cats,
will be worm food for rats,
rats the size of cave bears,
cats roaming as dire-weres.

the insects stay small,
not enough oxygen
to grow tall,
in numbers they explode,
without hominid manifesting
with their scoops,
refining poops
now poisonous soup.

out the gobs of asses,
proclaim to the masses,
while our land is dying,
politicians play their dices,
betting against evolution,
apocalyptic dumping,
crack in the earth
tells horrors unheard,
dying seabeds,
all laying
now
with dead heads.

their names you will know,
they grow and they grow,
like social cancer,
the cruelty
and
the banter.

politician they label,
important and able,
take money from the old,
steal our lives in their mold.

politician policing
all their guilts
like it’s singing!

this decays now,
it looks like snot
expelled from a bot.

be moderate,
be boring,
stop the snoring…
the dire-cat is calling.

© Copyright 2023, IsatTM