I wrote this before the apocalypse.
I wrote this back when
there was still a chance.
I wrote this
in those days
when we were uncertain about the future
at a point when prior uncertainty
brought us to that rickety precipice.
Yet
when this was written
it wasn’t too bad.
This was written when hope remained.

These words were recorded
when discourse was diminishing
when thoughts were foundering
when crises were coming
but hadn’t yet arrived.
This piece was composed
before it all went to hell.

Civilization still stood.
Society still rambled along
unaware of its eventual end.
Order still held sway
and people
though worried
thought that this too
would pass.
I wrote this
back when there was possibility
of a future,
of escape.
This wasn’t written so long ago.
I was very optimistic
back before the apocalypse.