10-22-2017, 12:45 AM
The End of the World
God must have spilled his box of paints today,
I'm fooled by the dream into believing
the end of the world is nigh: the cloudy yellow sunset
an ash plume or a mushroom cloud,
then the sky a rainbow, pastel
blues and pinks and golds
dusted with white stars,
two little silver cups
for moons, a red sun
always setting yet never hiding,
last a comet, a long cloudy stream of milk
turn suddenly vapor -- I'd woken up
only to fall asleep again.
God must have spilled his box of paints today,
I'm fooled by the dream into believing
the end of the world is nigh: the cloudy yellow sunset
an ash plume or a mushroom cloud,
then the sky a rainbow, pastel
blues and pinks and golds
dusted with white stars,
two little silver cups
for moons, a red sun
always setting yet never hiding,
last a comet, a long cloudy stream of milk
turn suddenly vapor -- I'd woken up
only to fall asleep again.