Death of the Anthropocene

All the rising suns you've seen

Their everlasting amber sheen

The empty wars that we fought

The plastic s**t that we bought

All the children that we starved

All the drawings that we carved

All the oceans we destroyed

All the people we unemployed

That slick, black, ominous liquid

To which we all were addicted

Every parasitic trace of

Our anthropocene

Will be concealed inbetween

Some lonely, sedimentary clay

Many, many minutes away