Maybe the Flowers Are Not Hard Enough

I WANT THE LAST DECADE OF MY LIFE BACK
I consider screaming at the child pirouetting

Across the grassy field on her way home
Where are you going in your tutu? Nowhere

All the role models stepped on landmines and
There’s no Bluey episode about nuclear winter

So who will guide us through the cornflowers
Compare us to the hellebores, too ashamed

To show our damned faces in the sunlight
Doing the drugs only led to septum issues

Reading the room only led to gastroenteritis
From hell’s heart I Slack at thee

Delete the last dregs of braggadocio
Fucking make it all up as I go