devolving

the beautiful are found at the edge of a room

crumpled into spiders and needles and silence

and they are crying like plants whose roots are cut.

each dead child coiled, a white serpent.

the young today are born prisoners

perfection is terrible, it cannot have children.

men are made mean, by fear, and a system of grab.

and the best won’t breed, though they don’t know why.

how suddenly the soul in a man begins to die.

*above image by street artist SWOON

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