watching the weeks clear

watching us in our dry, clean, civil world

and wars

and fears

a void of continuum that latches

to a spaceship called hope

but ships explode

and boats sink

and children die before age five

so why not feel invincible?

Death is walking in front

all the time.

yesterday.

last week.

tomorrow.

next week.

now.

if you’re blind

Death won’t walk so close because

your sound perception will be off.

dwelling only feeds the hungry herds you stroll through

starve it

the commercials and peer pressures and pointed fingers that mold your mask

starve them,

the haven of babble-filled biographies and profound pretenses that pack every fallacy that spewed from your face into a hardcover twenty-five dollar book called Truth(just kidding!)

starve it.

the cesspool of prices and plastic and perfect that slops into your eyes and burns through your retinas to be dissolved and absorbed straight to your brain

Starve it.

the homeless disheveled dog that devours your petunias and shits on your front step but begs for your dinner.

Starve it!