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Oct 2018
I always arise
     at break of dawn,
when curtained solar
     radiance openly drawn
upon a vast
     wasteland, though thankfully
     most (boot not all)

     bipedal hominids gone
widely analogous
     to chess pieces
     scattered across a giant
     severely torqued shredded board,
     perhaps except for a stray pawn.

Life distilled as self search engine
     crawling on hands and feet,
(NOT with Google) basic needs,
     during cold and heat
sans eat, drink, sleep
     and of course excrete
     (at some distance
     removed from hovel).

Thick cobwebs glom collapsed
     damp moss covered walls
     nearly self imprisoning me,
where the once glorious
     complex edifice stood,
     now...nothing but a
     rubble heap of scree
barely hinting anew of these halcyon

     hunting gathering feral days,
     when life seems so carefree
versus back when big pistol packing
     game commissioners roamed
     the verdant rolling hills
     of Highland Manor on the lookout
     for ill eagle looking aliens,
     now...quiet as a cemetery.

Yet such utter desolation
     (forcing a daily struggle
     of lovely bare bones survival)
     matches my mute
     misanthropic nature - dee
void of material trappings,
     but more pleasing
     tis the absence of humanity

solitary existence always sought out
     before the global catastrophe
rendered most every
     square inch comprising,
     the terra firmae
     obliterated amidst a sea
of abomination, damnation,
     and ruination, nonetheless

     dystopian crumbled ruins agree
able, and affixes
     a purposefulness to survive
     by the sweat of mine
     furrowed brow, nee
back breaking twenty four hours
     seven days a week
     laborious work - key

ping this weather
     beaten body of mine,
     (that feels a bajillion years old)
     in tiptop shape pre
pared to defend myself against,
     the most fierce-some (rare lee
seen beast), i.e. another
     lone nasty, short and brutish

     **** sapiens, which sighting re
moat, cuz mountains
     of near impassable
     huge precariously perched,
     pock marked, and jagged, debris,
an absolute deterrent to all
     but the most gargantuan,
desperate and/or crazy,

what me worry,
NO..., cuz parameters of life
     never known to be
so clear cut without the threat
     of nuclear weaponry,
where mankind leveled playing field
     for every specie.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
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