The Eventual Design

I cried that night

because the wind was broken

because our voices had spoken

of the eventual design.

We killed the hominid shaped dummies

and shipwrecked the old-timers,

kicking survivors like "we ain't one of you"

I stole a minute from the time farce

and stole a corner from my house's smallest room (mine)

And I cried like tomorrow was the last time.

And I cried.