The End Of The End
Growing up, a young pup, in the ides of Ohio,
I thought, and I bought, in the end, I was loyal,
To the dream, how it seemed, of a world well-oiled.
Like on tracks, no go-backs, after years of hard toil,
We were here.
That the end of history was here.
All those years all that suffering that fear,
In a book I could close and not go near,
Soon everyone joining us here.
At the end of history, this year.
Growing up, an old mutt, in the wilds of Colombo,
Untaught and unsought, I saw things become so,
Nightmarish, and garish, a world gone all spoiled,
Off the tracks, going back, all destroyed so
The end of the end disappeared.
The illusion a child had revered,
Suddenly, it all went unclear,
The end of the end, wasn’t here.