There is no peace to be had here.
The birds have flown away
and night clings fiercely to my brain.
Cars are becoming space shuttles
and I begin to feel weightless.
Even as the Mayan apocalypse looms,
I feel giddily hopeful
and imagine the dying sun
dripping on my upturned face
so happy not to have to do Christmas shopping.
Even a faux apocalypse beats no apocalypse.
Still, why take unnecessary chances?
Pass me the bourbon and that last joint.
I know a cave in Tennessee...
- mce
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