Void

It’s cool to be a nihilist
Pour that bleak, scornful
Weak coffee over the head
Of a loved one.
They stop talking to
Roast each individual bean
At 37 degrees. Life
Signs are good, above
Average life expectancy
We get to watch as puffins
Exhale on their tiny island
Reminded, of how pointless
It is to try at all. Ivory towers
Shooting birds, such a great
Huntsman, they’ll say
Taking the little victories
The small pieces of joy
Smashing them like
Colliders of matter
Colliders where matter matters
No matter what the bulilding
Blocks turn out to be

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Void

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