“Bulge Dots,” by Michael Tompsett in Fine Art America

Only Blankness Remains

Death is the most democratic process

humans have and

we’ve taken death to a planetary scale.

At this pace, who will be left to preform the burials?

Should we try to wake each other up?

The news is on, full volume,

unapologetically blasting planetary warnings

and nothing changes.

The poets words are a swallows’ skull sunk in forest detritus, a dream,

not a wake up call.

When there is an erasure of all the dots on the page,

only blankness remains.