Expanse
by variousignatures
Expanse Expanse
Oh Beauty
Of America
and the broken down service station
opens unto itself
the vagrant portal
sending the messages to vacant warehouse districts
to the new plains
grown on dirt pile removed voraciously
to make the foundation.
And
The Foundation
Its Horror.
The virtual space for something new
to exist and then be
the broken down service station or
yet worse the greened dirt pile.
Walking down highway that moves
forward. Two Lanes. In or Out.
Cemented line of structure
not freedom.
The road is long and weary and
turns inconceivably
turns slowly
turns silently
turns by its own will
turns into parking lot for nothing
the end of parking lots.
Expanse Expanse
Beautiful Expanse.
There was a farm here. Someone died.
Now just a field where the grass
won’t grow, a few invasives to pepper the landscape.
A man stands out of visions understanding
to watch the field.
The grassless field
making sure nothing goes on there.
Then farm now field
is alive and transmits
to other expiration, other deaths.
Of the extinct and
impending extinctions
and the obscured man remains
to assure this is enacted
to its completion.
Expanse Expansion
Beauty
America
Not Freedom
they are alive
the millions of bugs alive
to propagate
30 days before the end
and the bugs communicate none.
Objects have tried
Creatures have tried
The bugs feign response and responsibility
nullified winged bugs. Paper thin
nullified wings.
The ex-patriots of our world. Freedom
from allies on the axis of the sky
or even walking around on
carcass and arm.
Millions studied and cataloged
silently. The buzzing
we are all convinced
is the thoroughly despised
sound of the millions of bugs.
Betrayed by their nullified bodies. Betrayed
by sound and false communication.
America
Its Bugs
and their expansion.
-v.t.s.

It is an expansive story to tell and this poem is a clear eyed version…hell of a vision…thanks.
thank you! i read this poem once, at a reading, and have been horribly afraid of it ever since. it must’ve had a power over me. glad you enjoyed it. really excited you’re going through my backlog.
Has got something. Wording and rhythm is lovely, imagery strange and powerful. Desolate, unpleasant, all there!