no platonic shadows

when veneers crack the end comes very soon
the scent of pain cuts across every line
we think it midnight but we call it noon

though vultures gather they will never croon
not even when they watch the falling kine
when veneers crack the end comes very soon

at night we listen for the lonely loon
on lakes whose banks are thick with fir and pine
we think it midnight but we call it noon

promises made by light of the full moon
crumble to powder if we have to sign
when veneers crack the end comes very soon

we wake and then we wonder why you swoon
the greatest hopes plain life will undermine
we think it midnight but we call it noon

we ask for peace as if it were a boon
but cannot wait our metal to refine
when veneers crack the end comes very soon
we think it midnight but we call it noon