The Oaks

Their dead finger shadows
-stretch-
Across the cold asphalt

stupid conversations

If the world is full
of an indistiguishable void,
the youth begins,
serious and stricken,
full of earnestness,

We laugh
raging holes
bursting with poms
and as circumstance would have it
shards of saliva

What a stupid thing!, we yell
A stupid thing
For everyone knows
that the universe empties out
onto itself