I’d endure
Almost anything other than the current affairs
That crawl across the screen
And deceive each night

I yearn, for anything other
Than the shallow misery of myself
Every fleeting hour of self-pity is a sin

I dream
To wash away this era
And every mile of its misdeeds
Splayed out and dead

Is there anything, anywhere else
Outside of the screaming
The endless ill-informed screech of these times?