Reign XIV

The coronation of King No Future
Came on like a bad hangover: sudden
As a star collapsing into sutured existence,
Painful as a cracked skull and a broken
Heart, and just as inevitable. This
Is our life now, homeless and indebted,
Marginalized and indignant. Well, piss
On the world that left us here, abetted
The theft of our later days. Tiny hands
Force crowns of thorns on us all, begin to
Salute. They laugh, those new Charles IIs,
But the only royalty is us. So
We live like exiles looking for a fight.
(It was always two minutes to midnight.)

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