happy little trees on my happy little canvas
god bless us and this wilting landscape
chalk and charcoal shade the shadows
to burn and bruise depict decay
where every stroke is a pat on the back
and vinyl etchings form harmonic dilution

here, the season paints itself into the ocean
polluting even the clearest of shallow waters
in the earliest hours of this godforsaken morning
smokestacks billow through the variable clouds
debris rises up through the width of the waves
and an SOS submerges, never to be seen

but there will still be scavengers coming and going
fluttering away from these pale opportunists
viewing the sea set flame to the cotton candy horizon
it opened its mouth and welcomed the triumph
coughing up the mute colors that painted the sky
shipwrecks dont save themselves now do they?