Poem: Apocalypse Whenever

I can’t recall when the Apathy arrived
accompanied by Distraction
but I think it was when
we picked up our screens,
caressed them —
necks bent like swans over water.

The Entertainment was vast,
more than a lifetime could hold,
and we —
eager to cross another video,
off our to do lists —
kept right on gazing, pressing,
’til the din filled our earbuds.

And when we finally looked up
and tried to notice
what nourished our ancestors
all we found was
the silent sound of the clouds creeping
through the sky in the birdless winter.

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