So in addition to the Big Bang, I also
like to think about the end of the world, which
I think is scheduled for a couple of weeks from now.
[LAUGHTER]
Just put it on your calendar.
So I titled this poem, this is-- kind of considering that
and I titled this, "After the Last Mass Extinction
on the Planet, The Great Dying."
This is what happens.
The sky provides.
The ground opens.
One day swallows a man entire.
The smoke lifts.
The citizens gathering on the hilltop.
The citizens consume the scene.
A nation cheers.
A nation mourns.
This is what happens.
A woman hangs her head.
A good citizen, an exhibition, a woman moving in the wrong body.
Quick combustion.
Each voice armed and at the ready.
Each heart moving, just keeping on like a muscle.
What is a country?
What category of disaster.
This is what happens.
The sky will reimagine tumult just is.
It is the end.
We seek shelter.
We are good citizens.
We shut up our eyes for so long.
We wait and wait.
The room grows smaller.
The sea rises up to meet us.