C. S. Vincent
CONSERVATION OF APATHY
You bloom through a retrograde forest
and from rooted boughs, you chopped down
men for firewood.
It is loud:
melting pulp of brains down to blood
that pumps into a shriek.
Void leaks through opaque pupils,
devouring spirits like a vacuum to dust--
They lapse into a lake of wombs,
drowning deliverance for no man.
In haze, they begged to offer up the planet,
the children in third worlds,
vulnerable vapor looming from the universe,
to be burned instead.
Little did they know men were always
sculptures, branded by your matches
that flickered no mercy.
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