Is this the moment
Is this the time
The bend, the shift
The beginning of the end?
Had we reached the top
And now already started descending down the other side
Of civilization as we know it?
There is always a moment,
It seems in hindsight,
Of teetering.
Of course we won’t know until it’s too late
Erosion starting at the bottom
Whisked away until we are all standing on air
like Wyle E. Coyote
Finally the crust will fall, in a pile of empty mansions and un-dyed hair
But in our slip,
what else could rise?
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