Rioting

Where are we supposed to stand
when the floor caves in beneath our feet
on the edge of the apocalypse?
Bureaucratic bullshit fills the airwaves
with obnoxious white noise, while
employers argue how asking for
a salary this early in advance,
regardless of the color in the clouds,
is against legalized regulation.
The share-market drops long before the sky,
the airplanes falling around our ears
hours before the super-nova is set
to blister our planet, until it resembles a sweltering rose.
So, there I am, in the middle of the street,
watching the degenerates and delinquents
setting fire to once sought after library texts,
their failure to realize everything will be a smoldering ruin
before the night is over, emphasizing where priorities are positioned.
I watch as a friend of mine leads his lover
through the crowd, hoping he does not run into
her parents, who never once accepted his adoration.
He pushes deranged hooligans
spouting their end of days propaganda
to the ground, stamping upon their heads
to ensure they do not stand again.
He holds her close,
a treasured gaze articulating the legitimacy
of his heart, though my own ceases to care for what is right or wrong,
the moral decency of the moment having long subsided
when the government decided a warning was alright,
but hours before the world would end.
I struggle with the domineering urges,
wishing desperately to obtain what I have constantly been denied.
To see her within my reach,
on the day restrictions no longer ought to be abided,
ceases whatever anxieties that once scaffolded
my inability to resist, as I find myself
racing towards her location. I grasp
hold of her free hand, while her boyfriend
maintains his hold on the other,
my eyes locking with hers
in the moment she realizes that the friendship
I provided, was nothing more
than a facade, concealing the man of her endeavors dreams.
Amongst the accumulating pile of rubble,
as the woman both of us cherish
is forced to decide which of us
to spend her final hours with,
we raise our would-be weapons,
and prepare to fight it out,
much like the other seven or so billion rioters.

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5 thoughts on “Rioting

  1. Hm, I think this is one of my favorites of yours! Definitely love the imagery. These lines in particular:

    “The share-market drops long before the sky,
    the airplanes falling around our ears”

    1. I know… I normally spell things the English way, but thought I’d, I don’t know, shake things up a little and take a more American approach – let’s face it, the way Americans spell, makes a lot more sense, than the way words are spelt down-under.

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