could you write a poem about the end of the world? the United States just dropped a gigantic bomb on afghanistan, and tensions have been rising around the world all week, and it feels like the world is ending. your poetry always comforts me, so i thought hearing a poem from you about it might help me make sense of all of this...😞
the moon ain’t on fire, but we small dusts,
peerin’ up at its wine-yellow mouth,
stranded in the anchor of its orbit–
first time you fell off your tricycle
an’ broke your knee open on the pavement,
remember how all the blood you ever knew
began an’ ended with what went under
that bright purple bandaid?
you ain’t young no more. the warm sunrises
don’t heave with as many fat songbirds
as they used to. you thought there was s'posed
to be trumpets an’ thunderstorms, god sinkin’
his sharp white teeth into every tender thing,
but the apocalypse don’t arrive like that.
you wake up this morning an’ turn on the news.
they’re exhumin’ limbs from rubble again.
they’re fishin’ still-warm bodies out of rivers
again. they’ve got your gay heart clenched
in their mute fists an’ no sympathy for your breath.
but here’s what our fathers told us to do
when it feels like we’ve got flames for blood:
eat two egg whites an’ a thick slice of toast
with breakfast. call someone an’ tell them
we love them transcendently. do not weep.
we’ll gather the wild magnolia blooms, then hunt
down our sharpest pocket knives. if the lord
asks us to fight, we’ll hold the men we love,
laugh, an’ tell him not even the damp-eyed moon
possesses so much brightness as us.