Write this down that proves your existence
Carve it into rock leave it at the road not taken
The last sign post before the un-raveling
Once the satellites fall from your eyes
You'll see the world skewed through a whole new prism
Listen for the crickets that aren’t there anymore
As in a trance dance counter to any celestial occurrence
We know the stars are out there without any visual evidence
Warm ourselves with the refracted light past tense now
Smell the end of days roast the last meat cooked
Chart our course for tomorrow by dead reckoning wave to the camera’s no longer working
Fabric of time putrid remnants we wear on our backs
History wrinkles the map of our faces
A fine ash cloys in our nostrils like the red clay of Texas
Nostradamus, who has the last laugh now
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