free gas station matches

listening to leonard cohen
isn't enough
as i tumble down
this rabbit hole
the world's destruction
is the opposite of
the world's fair

there is no rose in my teeth
there is no one to stand in my way
i watch the world fall
a house of cards
so creased
someone found them
in a moldy attic
and wondered why
someone saved them at all

we all die
listening to old records
in a kitchen
with a stained formica table
the marks of a pairing knife
tell tale hieroglyphics
someone cut apples here
that you never ate

this is the apocalypse 
and your fingers smell like mildew
from trying to find hope in the attic

you light free gas station matches
just for something to do
while your own light is dying

the only one left
beside you is your dog
who licks low sodium spam
out of a can

you were too depressed to
walk him
amongst the dead bodies
that line the street

you wonder why you gave up smoking
drinking
all those people you loved
still left you alone

this virus 
has forgotten to kill you

you read old journals
written in diners 
when you believed in a future
while playing with a filthy salt shaker

the shake of your head
is a eulogy
to stupidity



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