a less than compelling poem /
about ephemerality /
there may be a need to write /
but avoid needing this world /
that noisy matter at the end /
of the broken curb /
sleep before everything /
even kitchen fires /
the house becomes our last meal anyways /
please don’t care /
enough of us already filling space /
sit quietly as air leaks into orbit /
hugging all the floating debris above /
space junk is an industry now /
with promotional swag /
and embossed business cards /
attracting all the attention /
at the job fair /
aspire to be an untethered garbage man /
time and a half pay /
for breathing recycled oxygen /
the industry’s tagline: /
“everything lives forever in space” /
snag the scrap /
and set yourself free /
room to roam /
until another time finds you
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