Everything matters when nothing matters.
The way the dust falls in the light.
How a cat stalks a spider.
The scrape of steel wool
against an iron frying pan.

It all matters.
It all matters so much
because nothing matters.

It all stopped mattering.
Now the sight and sound
of all that continues
to go on and be
oblivious
to the fact that nothing matters,
eats at your gizzard,
tears at your lungs.

You can’t breathe.
You can’t think.
You can’t watch.
You can’t listen.

All you can do
is sulk in your chair,
pull at a beer
and pretend the TV
talking to you
is the one you miss.