Passing Phase

On the dark side
Of every moon
Drink
And drop of acid
The jackals wait
With sockets of ash
For the last grains
To fall
Sunday morning ravens
Defecate on a crucifix
The wind tears holes
In an old glory
That never really was

Rain and rivers
Tenderize the landscape
Into quiet submission

Oceans and beaches
Hungry for more

And I have earned
The right
To tread through
This body of apathy
When all there is
Worth mimicking
Is her indifference