The man on TV says, This is the big one,
folks.
The man
says, Call your mother and say
goodbye.
To save themselves, thousands of people jump
to the bottom of a river and turn
into fish. Fish survive devastation. Fish don’t worry
about
whether they’re loved. What does
it mean to “end” anyway? To be a person and then a
body.
To be a city and then a ruin. Maybe
someone should give this world the Heimlich. Maybe
it’ll
cough up all the good people it
swallowed and choked on too soon. I think the birds
are
in mourning. I think the trees feel
sorry for us. Too bad about all that skin covering all
those
little bones. Too bad about that noise
emanating from the heart, untranslatable and strange.
How
does the song go? Something about
feeling fine. I put a note in your pocket that said:
CALL
ME WHEN YOU GET THERE.
You never got there.