As Western civilization sinks
beneath a quagmire of self-created
pestilence and canker, I devise
a ceremony to acknowledge this
demise and seek cleansing.
I bathe myself in crude oil,
rubbing the vile, viscous liquid
into every crevice and orifice.
At sunset I ascend a hill, on top
of which I scrape the loathsome
substance from my body using
discarded credit cards, flinging
the mess to the winds while
declaring my complicity and
screaming of my self-loathing.
Finally I dress, filling the pockets
of my coat and trousers with seeds,
an offering to all who are yet to
be born into this apocalyptic cradle.


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