Moon Lit Poets

LA dawn gnaws
On an unknown horizon
Sea freed from
Night sights
Slowly the sky turns gold.
These memories will
slowly escape you
An abandoned car
sinks into the forest floor
Gems in museums
the reproducible scam
We're all working for
Minimum Wage here
Bury the ashes in a can
In a handful of years
we'll all be pilots
of unmanned starships
stripped of egos and accolades
blindly exploring the universe