I heard the moribund mantras muttered
by the bust of Pallas mourning
the immaculate Venus
who stumbled from the altar.
But it should come as no surprise
even belladonis wilt and lose
their toxicity to the soil.
And yet they were dumbstruck
when they failed to see
Horizons from the perch of skyscrapers
And citylines vanishing in the night.
Stasis smells like cheap perfume
And this age is supersaturated
Precipitating toxins from the dirt.
But the Earth will spin regardless
Unraveling the illusion
Into lines and fissures.
And they cannot even weep
Blanched as they are
For fear of losing face
When daylight breaks the spell.