It doesn't matter, 

or so I've been told, as the 

path underfoot caves 

Apes still, we turn all

technology towards violence, 

sex, supremacy 

Elusive answers

to existential questions

hang in the half-light 

I'm sick of writing 

these damn haikus and will shut

 it down (April Fools) 

From ashes we rise 

until turned to dust and hope

to irritate eyes 

The satirists have

been sacked and sci fi writers 

put out to pasture 

They cut your war braids 

and choked off your fierce cries but

you'll have the last laugh