New

New years past, and here's one
for the archive-storage-kbs-mbs
2012, it's already gone
I guess that's fitting the theme
since lately I've dreamt of the end
of the world, which is kinda like
hot pot in that everything is
thrown into the same reddish soup to cook
called entropy, homogeneity, whatever, bubbling.
My new years eve dinner
just that and some beer to wash it down,
with the fireworks unheard outside going up for
hope, realization, numbers, obligation to
the end
I'll hold your hand until
the end
even so
The tigers will pick our bones clean in
the end

I've had enough