The Jostling

By Finn Wagner

Experimentation is a warning

confined to this ring on my finger as I write.

The last eight minutes of light

from the sun, now fallen into shadow,

as it tries to cry out. It pleads for its

last breath to be this warning.

But the calls went unanswered

so the streets kept Jostling–

the businessmen bribing;

beggars begging;

and the hopers hoping for an end–

in time, they all got what they wanted:

To start anew on this uninhabitable wasteland,

so the innovations can be invented again.

What more can be extracted

from this beast of capital,

when it has already gifted us this desolation?

But even this place, born dead again,

carries the scars of the Jostling.

I still, on this planet anew,

must part for the wind

as it carries the huffs of the engine–

or I will have no other choice than to join.

By Finn Wagner