That you say etcetera when you mean et cetera:
more of the same. That time can't exist
between us independent of our thoughts & a world opaque
as milk of the eye, swirling by minutes & degrees.
Or that unicorns have a lonely horn,
not so magical when new science shows us that
little in nature exists without utility (a single spear proves
useful for naught but killing).
Why not put aside the unicorns & etceteras
of our lives? We've wasted too much
meaning, found more of the same. The dead collect
en masse across senseless hours. If we forgive
time, perhaps they live eternities, thank us for sleep
& for sanctuary. A bayonet can't make a sundial
from a boy's back if we choose to look away,
as the bombs that fall can't harbor indiscriminate
etceteras in their metal hearts.