The Day the World Ended

The Day the World Ended

The day the world ended

Looked like any other day

But everything was changed,

My tangled hair

my rumpled bed,

I arose

And everything was new.

The little cat who prowled the yard

Sniffed every new-created flower

Under a fresh-imagined sky.

The soil, still wet

From old world rain,

Had transformed,

Every atom had reset its clock.

 

Of course the usual reactionaries

Had hoped for volcanoes and tidal waves.

Any apocalypse would do,

So long as it killed off the all the godless

Liberals

Turned them to tiki torches

Roasted them on a spit

Or drowned them in a thousand feet

Of rushy sea.

Their final dream –pornography.

 

Yet it came nonetheless.

Invisible but complete.

I am changed

The cat is changed

Even the street is new.

Who might I be this time?

Lover, poet, dreamer.

Goodtime girl at the end of the bar.

Or finally, genius?

 

Grace rushes in

Like a thousand feet of water,

and beauty, doing cartwheels.

What should one do when the world ends?

Notice.