"Who might calibrate the rains upon marmoreal lake, these tears marionette upon the griddle?" --Kristin Ryling
when a ship crosses the line
that marks the middle of the globe
you join the shellback tribe
& as polliwog no more wone
all of us lubbers crossed
another line not far back
though we did our best to block
one hell of a Pyrrhic forecast
two degrees of heat
which is better than eating glass
& the world's still not at peace
& we strain at each fucking gnat
the earth of yesterday morphs
into one a whole lot harsher
our stint at gleeful torture
is garnish on the share each scarfs
so this was just a line
among so many we've crossed
all the children sacrificed
to a Moloch that's a Peloton
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