The Silence Will Be Sudden Then Last

Sybaritic afterlife I don’t crave you.

I like daylight. I like crowds.

I don’t think it will be charming underground.

The silence will be sudden then last.

What’s chic will shrink.

There won’t be any pretty, pity.

Will never peaches there, or air.

We’ll be so squashed and sour there.

I don’t want a cold place.

Don’t want a threadbare

clamp and consequence all old.

Our loneliness will be prolonged then go too far.

Oh fuck it’s true.

Then nothing left of you.