"End of It," "Climate Change or Not," and "Back to Black and White"

End of It

there’ll be no time
for us that recognize
the passing of it 
to remember

Michelangelo, Mozart and Rembrandt
imagery dashed to the depths
pianos blown out of the sky

and what about
institutionalized wet brains
robotically chewing some factory processed carrion

what we are
there will be no time 
left to describe

the fury evolved
in the evolution of
failure

it’s a damn shame
I was planning on a starlet
on each elbow 
by age 60

 


 

Climate Change or Not

the other night yet another local city burned
I can smell it in the walls
it’s becoming normalized in California 
to absorb the Inferno
to don customized gas masks
as the walls of everywhere
teem with vermin
I wish I had a dog
to alert me of these ideas
or a Sigmund Freud bobblehead​
the last couple weeks have killed dozens of people
in California
as science maintains
we as a people
have certain enemies in high places

 


 

Back to Black and White

hermit crabs scuttle across pearl moonscapes
while the mice in the floorboards 
have their own brand of justice

I gotta go to the doctor
because something is wrong
even the butcher shop’s closed

waves pulse and recede, frothy white
thoroughbred horses breathe heavily
trapped in their ancient skulls
while the sky just storms and rains

you might be a break in the monotony
a saxophonist encouraging call and response
then you quit smoking for good
while I notice 
in the middle of the night
a pair of scissors at my throat

who listens to forewarnings?
just follow the fireworks
and not so suddenly
the ceiling fan ceases to rotate

electricity down
of course the water is shut off without any notice
it takes very little panic before
the people start flocking for the toilets
for more reasons than one

but no way to boil out the salt
the acidity
the shit

a grey sheen decolorizes reality
the film strip of life finally achieving the circuitous
evolution of art

 

 

Jay Passer’s work has appeared in print and online all over the globe since 1988. He is the author of several chapbooks, and his 2018 full-length collection, they lied to me when they said everything would be alright, from Pski’s Porch Publishing, is currently available from Amazon. Passer lives and works in San Francisco, the city of his birth.

 

Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Tuesday, January 29, 2019 - 23:39