the band will begin playing soon enough.

for I'm concerned as to how

half a degree could save us

from a blizzard de misery, like,

does that half a degree

even have the shoulders to hold such a weight?

perhaps if enough people

exhale out their windows

the hots of our breaths will completely affect

the climatic patterns of our lives.

similar to the obvious and honest reasoning

that if 7 billion of us

strode to the same nation,

and we all jumped at once,

the earth would snap out of orbit,

and we would all die

as we (by chance) collided with another planet

like fucking asteroids, only

we only really have one life left.

fuh PAM.

Dios jodemente mio.

we fall to our knees as one again,

and scratch the scalps of pure idiocy

as why would, when we finally banded as one,

we played a song that would soon

destroy us from the inside out.

the good news, is, though,

that it will not snow, because our destination is

wryly..

the sun.

now that the sun's like, “haha, bitches!”

we have 5 months and 3 days to make a difference.

we can use cars now,

and probably even have sex in public places.

because who gives a shit?

forgetting of course, that fatality could very well be mended

if we jumped on a different side of the earth.

actually, I think we'd rather die of being hot and heavy

than die of slowly getting frozen.

at least we don't have to diet

or care about politics.

5 months and 3 days.

we look outside

(screw it, I'll get up and go outside!)

and feel the band's uneasiness.

the trumpeter, as usual, forgot this music

along with his sense of pride

underneath his couch in his apartment on 1st.

I stop wondering why he lives alone.

the baby in the audience that's always there when

you don't want her

is wailing at us, wailing at God

for making her teeth feel so unbearably painful.

I wish she was old enough to live life like the rest of us have.

I pace on my deadening grass

in shorts.

no me gusta pantalones cuartos.

and jump.

WAW WAW WAW.

the crows dropped cawing and adopted

the sound of whining children.

the crows sounded like children,

and as I feel the air pressure

and see the sun a little bigger,

I miss our moon

and I think that Mars doesn't sound so bad

after all.