Non-Erotic PoetryLife At The Centre Of The Universe

Life At The Centre Of The Universe

Gas masks soldered on paving slabs
emit noxious gases from their
rubbery snouts. People collapse
as they wait in line for the tripods
to administer their daily dose of junk.
Some wake, still drowning from this
vision of their life to come. Others,
like me, relish the prospect of dying
before they’re yet born.

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