Teleshopping is moments away, moon takes cover behind black,
mourn us now, midnight has struck;
our bodies – simply sentient, have turned to dust.
This is how morning greets us, rows and rows of weight-loss tat
do the Charleston, in hours that fall from grace – on this former silver screen.
Adorno put his pen to his head and pulled the trigger, splash of red on the buttons, and the shrapnel turned the screen black