I can’t go back
to her apartment drunk
at 3 o’clock in the morning,
watching her gorgeous blue eyes
watch me
and her ripe full lips talk to me
underneath her shroud of
cherry red hair.
She’s dead.
Washed out alone in her car
in a flash flood in Texas.
Texas is still the frontier.
On the frontier you die alone.
And the politicians of Texas
ensure it remains the frontier
so
people can die alone,
unaided, unsupported,
free from the tyranny of assistance.
Like the end days of marketization say,
sensitive to its place in the timeline of humanity —
do not come here.
Do not go to Texas.
The pristine, new, symbiotic cities exist afar.
Go there,
survive, adjust,
be the next version of humanity
and live.
The 254 eunuchs
serve first
the dying beast of an exploited land.
Every man for himself.
Increased capitalized wealth.
God,
keep us free from other people.
Until none of this matters at all.
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