By: KJ Hannah Greenberg

Where do the woods part, castles touching the sky,
Succulent dropes growing pulsed to common lies?

When is a kitten sinking, drowning in the river,
Watched by a school girl drilled not to save her?

How long will admired discs spin tunes of opaque hope,
During rebellion, drought, also conflict’s abstruse smoke?

Can round vegetables, perhaps hackneyed oblong words,
Raise prospects, make more maligned voices heard?

Ill-fated lovers, likewise, when so imbued,
Will not seek to create any additional issue.

Ecology, subsequently, will run in fits and spurts,
Impotent to heal, weak to mend, just able to hurt.

Where do the woods part, to where ought we to fly,
After civilities bruise, rupture, all, in due course, die?