Fissure

It snapped
The great mass of humanity
A final offence
Floating coal
A dream softened then brutal
Reflection and prison
Sweat-kissed pressure
The fissure underlying the weak substrate
A giant maw
Gnaws cloaked in shadow

Doomed as all other empires doomed
Distorted by the ripe and endless cavils

A fire.
A fissure.
A fruiting of smoke

We are all rendered new and
Alien

What I’m Reading:

I want to leave a record so that, in case the inevitable happens, the people who come after us, the future generations, can know that once we all lived in the same country. That it was possible, once, for us all to live in a shared reality. If they can understand the process of our separation, perhaps they can figure out the process of rebinding, if there is a process of rebinding.

— Debbie Urbanski / “Long May My Land Be Bright” / Portalmania