Quiet inward wail
We inexoribly rail
Against the russet
Stench of ourselves
The waving dismissal
Of reality kills

But here is our flesh
Here is our blood
pressed against glass
Pressing on the gas
Hoping to go fast
Always hoping

The stars shine
Do you see them?
Those tiny moments
In the skies
When We stop
and When we lie

We can stop
The horrid chase
The banal case
Just shine on
In your own skin
Through your own din

Scars and wrinkles
Pecks and prods
Nebulae and nova
Smear color
Into the voids
Of our days