What each can do

The step is uncertain, renewed on rails which traces you cannot see
About approximation as duty
It's strange, the unknown
Clinging to businesses that seem obsolete
The nose looking for air
No offered lines to the meanders of the apocalypse

Work yourself up, devastate yourself up, move yourself up!
Radically vague
At the best you can, float!
The show is a source of chronic nausea
Close your eyes to the razors of horror
Weep inside of a bottomless sadness, do not expect anything

The love of yours and theirs, you look at it catching fire
Indistinct under the boos of the crowd
The mass panics, disappear!
You hold the handkerchief of reason tight as the buoys of your old dreams
Tight around the nostrils of your understanding
Tilted, subject to ineradicable rebellions

Do your work at best, probing the limits of your grace
Without hope for to morrow's term
Wisdom has melted under envy's drippings
You know the vile is tied to redemption
And it is hiding it as its secret cancer

Do your best
Do your best
Do your  best
Don't hope

January 2016