We shall not last

even if a tremble of portents are
assuaged by the dark children of future decades

even if we dodge probability with some nimble
mathematics barely apprehended

     even if our final balance of dawdling
     fills no more than a thimble

even if we are forgiven

     I say: if combatant claims divide our attempts
     to hold close the atomic pile of our genetics

     if our last days are made shorter by a
     hunger refined through a tense trigger finger

if these thin words are our only ranked bulwarks
against calamity 

if only poets write

This form is called a wryneck, and was created by poet R.A. Villanueva. I’m still not very good with it, probably mostly because I don’t like leaving things open ended. I was thinking about how writing can seem existentially futile, but also how writing (or any creative endeavor) is an act of defiance in the face of existential futility. Being stubborn is what keeps us extant.

The indenting separates sections of similar theme. Here, in particular, the indented sections are destructive and the regular sections are (arguably) creative in theme.