{"sf1_id":null,"sf2_id":"7ejYLPG1","title":"Epitaph Annus Horibillis","author":"Rob MacWolf","words":54,"posted_at":"2025-01-01T08:30:43.000Z","tags":["2024","epigram","epitaph","new year","poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/7ejYLPG1-epitaph-annus-horibillis","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/7ejYLPG1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/f6/67/f66707b2-86e2-475a-8b46-8f920cf23f11","description":"Happy New Year, I guess.  \n  \nThis is the work of human creativity, not an AI. Copying or processing this poem for any AI or Large Language Model database is theft of the poet's intellectual property.","content":"Here lies two thousand twenty four:  \nIn ways, the worst year yet we've seen.  \nAnd now here comes, again, once more,  \nThe worst humanity can dream.  \nBut I am here. And you are here.  \nAnd that makes we,  \nMiraculously.  \nAnd they may kill me yet, but they must do the work of killing me."}