The Future of Lost Hope (a poem)

Shot through the heart
peace felt the catamount claws tear
deeply through massive muscle
biting, sharp

A puerile sin of brothels musky loam
sunset Saturdays cast shadows
long over impressionist flowers
crumbling brick oppulents

Gambling cabald fields of death
profits of land acquisition
bourgeoning Belgian brews
translating timed fork semblent waves

An idiot on the heights
lonely wind of artful cashed tillery
pushed io the bone piles
rushed before he’d readied

Tyrannosaur mechs of AI war
crawling indexes deploying mimes
names; mames of redacted nimes
fine buildings of banked twerkery

Shirking left the ground kissed
vomit erupted guts
revolting masses passed
so grown green.