Mayans

it was the edge of science

on the boundary of belief

the sky was inky starless

but we were aqua marine

and folded in our sleeves

where we shielded our eyes

from the mystery

of an unscheduled eclipse

I seen moon men

sliding down the walls

the carnival of chaos

pervades my waking dreams

I’m sick, real sick

fetch me a doctor

the world of playground killers

and routine atrocity

has gotten me down

all I want is to feel a little better

but what’s the point?

it’s the slow pressure that kills a man

the acceptance of futility

when he stops fighting

he starts dying

when he starts dying

he forgets how to live

Jesus weeps

time runs out

entropy wins at a crawl

the dying days of planet Earth

the doomsday curse

a million extinct Mayans

can’t all be wrong