red birds will fly out of the east and destroy Paris in a night
crossing guards will turn, shocked, at the oncoming traffic
a lullaby will be hummed in the hopes that whiskey will soon follow
comic books will become yellowed, their lettering too small to read
a disheveled man with a scraggly beard will offer an apple to a young man gassing up his car
a couple will decide they can no longer make a go of it
a new gender will be created and then forgotten
vegetables will become less healthy than meat and grains better than both
the substructure in the thematic basement will collapse and all will suffer bee stings
in all the words a few will be prophetic but no one will get paid
compost will be a more useful instrument than the nail and microchip
those that can light candles, will
those that can sing, will
those that can smoke, will
those that can cut, will
those that can plant, will
those that can roll their tongue, will
those that can snuff candles, will
there may be a summer
there may be a fall
there may be a winter
there may be a spring
there may be one of these or none of these
red birds will fly out of the east and destroy Paris in a night
