Unsolved Mysteries

there is an eclipse coming and everyone can sit on lawn chairs in backyards watching two
celestial bodies devour all the light in our eyes,
planet eaters in protective glasses, private screenings at the doomlight drive-in,
end of summer and October eats the whole world while I’m learning how to get lost.
I want to disappear into the forest like a case on Unsolved Mysteries--lost in the frame of a 1999 camcorder, immortalized in impenetrable black like the saints of found footage
staring at the screen with unfortunate solitude so people wonder if I stepped into a portal between two birch trees because I had to investigate the bare white bark shining at night.
I’m looking for something deconstructed in two ways
mental desolation
  paired playfully in juxtaposition
with environmental dissonance
served in alternating chaos by a Cenobite with an interdimensional puzzle on a platter in the shape of a cube hiding the shape of a star, creating a form so unrecognizable that after six seasons the audience believes that everyone on the island is already dead because purgatory is a more distinguished form of disappearing for American households believing that the afterlife might be a tropical island with menacing corporate overlords and a formless cloud terrorizing the extras.