Nothing's Going to Change the World

Oh, new century, you sag 
like an ancient beast.

Who will gaze into your tired eyes, 
hold your arthritic jaw? 

Who will whisper blood-
sonnets to unfuse your vertebrae?

Every creature must tote its own backbone,

and any wind plays with an invisible spine.

To tear life from its cage, 
one must bind the claws with a single hair

stolen from a lover's skull. 

The cartilage of time is cracked — 
beautiful, sad age.

And you can't keep up. 

And you look back

like a starving animal at the snow

that fills your tracks.