1.
In the beginning, there was a siren.

Then the clocks stopped,

and we learned of a new time:

the wilt of grass,

the growth of fungi.

This became our prayer.

2.
We learned, that the body does not owe

anyone its blooming.
Let it wilt! we said.
Let it curl into its own
like the dying legs of spiders.

3.
Not every Creation needs to be

a rising action -- a loud call to arms.
Some of us simply endure,

while others turn to carbon.

Some stay quiet forever.

Sometimes keeping quiet

is the greatest resistance of all.

4.
The future failed us before it began.

The promise was naught

but a marketing campaign.

Now we believe only

in the redistribution of despair.

5.
But all ideals die, eventually. . .
Utopia or dystopia -- all mold or wither.

Only decay is worthy of our trust.

The compost is our legacy, and will nourish

the next defiance.

7.
We were never meant to survive.

So we turn surviving

into a sinful act of blasphemy.

II. The Scripture of Reusal and Refusal

Joy is not the absence of pain.
It is the mutiny against it.

The light offered is sterile and blinding;

no, refuse this light!

We wish for dusk and cloudbruised skies. 

Thus we cover the windows with plastic,

tape the edges, and breathe in the spores,

smelling the mildew (metaphorically)!

***

They say: sort your waste,

return your bottles,

separate glass from colored plastic:

as if salvation comes

from the trash bins of families.

We know:

no amount of sorting

undoes the poison in the soil,

that which leaks out in the drinking water.

III. The Lesbian Litany for the Chemically Aligned Alchemists