Sebastian trembled in the sun. O Tommy, Tommy, look
Look at the physical the spiritual the waste
Just another old man shouting shirtless in the street:
Tommy, Tommy, doing pushups in the June rain
A woman watches and can’t stop listening
Even closes her eyes to an indifferent city –
She stumbly walks on. Look what we’ve become
And drew his own self up. Two punks cheered. History
Rolled on, unmoved as concrete (an iPod user) to poets like these:
These, my inexorability blues – and the moment is over,
The sidewalk shimmers empty. A brown dog is curious,
Your old shoes hang in the breeze
Over these crowding hanging wires
As ravens ravened, whirled.
2006
late to the apocalypse 