You've made up some more words, and that's very uncontradictory of you.
The disturbing images, transfer their surrealism to the poem and vice versa.
We see decay and nostalgia. We see a couple having sex by the window amid a storm that does not seem to bother them, a guy trying to fish fish that are already caught/trapped. The impossibility of normalcy.
The arrogant look of the wrecked magazine cover speaks volumes about the immutability of recklessness; the reiteration of mistakes, perhaps.
I read the poem as a reflection of social injustice (Distributed disequilibrium), which finds ways to be replicated in many dimensions.
Elite groups make sure to prepare their apprentices to preserve their privileges. Corruption, pacts, extravagances and the lavish exuberance of luxury at the expense of ubiquitous poverty.
It is easy to falter before the apparent impossibility of demise, doom, or cataclysm. A financial one is as bad as a natural one, probably worst, because man-made cataclysms can always be avoided.
And yet, we see every attempt collapse. Even cryptos, even Steem and we wonder if it, with all the promises it brought, will finally “resume,resurrect, rejoin.”