Issue 2: Nigh: a poem by A. Daniel M.

Nigh by Adamdaniel M.

Cacophony.Dissonance.
Thingscometogether that were never meant to BE.
The commotion goes on undisturbed,
Crescendos;
Fades with not a single word.
Post-post-post-post-post…
The list goes on.
Bad times are coming.
Sign of the times.
Let the good times roll.

A post-modern sentence.
Instant gratification.
Noise.
It comes and &ym66607$ (symbols) go.
Post-apocalyptic hieroglyphics.
THRV$HT XV-I-
As an unkempt cat cultivating toothed claws.
Cutting through corporeality,
Dripping with the ripe flavor of the second.
The world moves on and freckles the memory gland.

Language crashes like lightning—swiftly.
Anxious energy built up like a dog, caged and violent.
Undying chaos lives and breathes so long as there is someone to document it and even
When no one is watching, perhaps.

“WE’VE FOUND THE GOD-PARTICLE!”
We wait in silence. We pace around a waiting room. We roam the streets
We never cease to criticize all that we see.
We seize the skepticism found in everything.

Cities are busy Sunday through Sunday.
There is no rest for the wicked, reserved for the weary.
“Come Armageddon, come nuclear war!”
Urban decay is a slow-moving pathology eating away at us all.

Planes crash,
Invigorating some strange hate.
Some symbol of solidarity.
I have been faithless.

Things fall apart.
Language fails me.
So does love.
And I am a love fool with a foolproof plan.
Death is fail-safe.
Full-proof, it never fails.

Civilization + Art = A house made of cards.
Dominoes and butterflies.
Subtle affects leaving marks on earth’s axis.
Let the good times roll!
After the final episode we can always watch the reruns, but
We are never syndicated.