Poetry class: 16 iambic pentametered lines
Onward to the wavesurfing new nations;
towards empty cities, coastline lifestyles
cottage communities on skyscrapers
sunken streets under the east coast ocean.
So long society, all we’ll want is free rides,
and how lucky, that’s all we’ll have.
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I break the day like bread, a sacrament,
but you count your blessings like sheep,
always putting yourself to morning sleep.
So leave your head, don’t feed your bed.
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To burn up in the atmosphere, I fear.
A falling star is meant to be wished on,
so steal my fire, take my light, I am done.
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What a wet night to be human with you!
My glowing companion, keep keep dancing.
I am - you are - both here tonight, this night;
Our singular duty to sink to beats.