Saturday, March 14, 2020

Soft Apocalypse



We pause now as if in eclipse 
Settling in 
the soft apocalypse

Sometimes the scales are set to be tipped
Useless flailing 
A panic switch 
Riders are we! 
of this soft apocalypse

Let only goodness then pass your lips 
The sun always rises after it dips 
It sails the cool night
On the waves it skips over 
the soft apocalypse 

In the glory of morn lay scattered chips
When gathered again
Old paradigms shift
Purged but not broken to terminal bits
Thanks to thee softpocalypse 

-by Julie O./ Ember Elektra

*artwork, by Jo Alys Downs, Platero and I, 1957