Libra – poems 2 die for

UNDER LIBRA

balance
temperance
transcendence

I check my calendar
assiduously
wondering when they
might
reappear

(if
they ever
did appear)

so much bad substance
dark matter festering
this many a day

coming to the surface
bursting every
tectonic
plate

hot slick sludge volcano
whose pyroclastic flow
covering in
magma
whole wealth of detail

that it
is turning out to be
this change
of epoch morning

whilst I spin my roladex top database
like an insane creature trapped
in the winking
headlights of extinction

searching for a theoretician
(any still standing
though
tossed
aside)

can explain
this shit to me

balance transcendence temperance

I hold off
on judgement

(sum
of all my fears)