The No-Future Given Us

Lately, the film o’er the eyes
feels thicker, more viscous.
The heap of yesterdays
piled on the battered path
quivers to the peculiar rhythm
the night sets down.
And we too are caught
in its uneven frenetic tempo
like fish struggling in a net.

Yet one can’t help but be
moved by these circumstances.

Having had our fill of first
and second chances,
we thrust our weight
into the no-future given us
by late-Capitalism’s ghastly carcass,
gorging ourselves half-heartedly
on stalled moments, false monuments.

Truly, there’s something
to treasure here, to savor
in whatever capacity one can,
but that something is so small
and shy it’s barely worth
the effort to unpack it.

-r. miller

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