The Stock Exchange at the End of the Universe

Deodorant sent them to space
And Richard Branson, to the Moon!
There’s a big box in the pores of Apophis
The stain on the void and the silence and stone

Now, the bounced checks make rounds in
Judecca, I’m shaking my head to thaw
My fist; down here spare time has me looking up
One floats by and I spite and spit
I sit and I swig and remember an untouched life

For every dime in every cranny of the void
I’ll just count out and
Count on the plain,
Same misery beneath sub-orbit

What’s a man to do
But comply with gravity,
Tip back venom
And bitch?

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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