A cursory glance at today’s stuff
at first light of dawn
reveals the customary
posse of miserable souls.
Some offer an ersarz salvation
of sorts – believe this or that
and you’ll live forever
if not here – somewhere
out there in cyberspace
Other poetasters foresee
nothing but darkness at dawn
go ahead, pull the trigger
they cry
as they weep
Thank you all
I prefer a bowl
of Wheaties
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