Radio

We speak in tributes
    to one another

We think in memories
    of one another

What is creativity but a different way of putting
    what has already been said?

      I listen to the media
      I reiterate the bended facts
      but I don't know the difference between emotion and terrible
twists of the beauty you can find
  hiding in the buildings, burning in the fires that
I always hear about.
          One time I preached the tale of a child being saved
not from a television enhanced predator
  but from the  natural wonders of the world

No one listened to what I saw with my own eyes.
No one cared to hear it.

Because they heard another lecture on
    the end of the world


It comes tomorrow.
It comes today.
It came yesterday.


We're a dying breed of maniacs and liars and I'm the one at the head
I'm the one standing with the megaphone
preaching about the end


And when it comes.
The key you've tried to earn through fear and belligerence
and self loathing and peer denial and reverence and sacrifice
and lies and downtrodden hope and blocked creativity
and mortal sins and immortal sins and chastity and purity

You will discover
It is black.  We will burn.  It is black.

It is nothing.