We Will Have Vanished

My supervisor slid
His skin squeaking down
Past my plate glass window
Forty floors above the ground

And as he passed my desk
Eyes level with mine
Asked me "how's the report coming?"
I reply, "just fine."

But I'm lying
But I'm lying
And we both know it
And we both know it
And can't escape it
It's Ancient...

My supervisor says
"Let's backdate ourselves
Let our stunned hands turn to dumb stone
Refinance ourselves."
And when the signed names glow, constellational
In a vine knot, luminescent underneath the cold...

The cold lamp of the old moon
We will have vanished!
We will have vanished!
The current come undone
Within such choked wholes
Unfinished