Frontline citizens 

face off with homegrown fascists 

battling for our souls 

The fetid breath of 

mortality tickles your 

ear with whisperings 

Artifice is all

today, when actors replace 

gods, and the rest pray 

Fortuna coyly

winks with promise but fails to

deliver the goods

Flames' flicker calls us

ancestrally back to an

inner sense of awe 

Winter cold burrows

into bones like termites in

soft wood gnawing through 

A tickling teasing 

thought plays at the edge of your 

mind, still elusive