"Meet here after the apocalypse"
and I could have sworn
that the wiry flailing arms beating a circle
of drums were those damn art-house kids,
but on closer inspection from
my seat in the library
I saw they were children––not kids
in the sense of our casual dismissals, or how
you will always refer to sons and daughters––
but children, who probably don't think
about the ninety-eight percent of species
that are extinct, or how the sound of a crash
doesn't send us running until we learn
to associate destruction with tragedy.
The sign had a party hat attached
to the corner, with tassels like fireworks,
which are really just beautiful explosions.
Prompt via: Bigtentpoetry.org
10 comments:
very contemplative work. Reading it felt as though I was seeing through your eyes at the scene described.
Really enjoyed this, even if the subject matter gives pause for thought. Because I love rhyme, I especially like:
"but children, who probably don't think
about the ninety-eight percent of species
that are extinct"
I liked this. I feel the curmudgeon in: "and I could have sworn that the wiry flailing arms beating a circle
of drums were those damn art-house kids."
The last three lines seal it. I'll read this one again. Thanks!
Luminous poem! Love the scene, the building of an idea, the incredible last line.
A poem to linger over.
Provocative piece, for sure. Love the sounds and images here.
i had a conversation yesterday with a friend about why we sometimes refuse to trust that sense of danger and your lines about associating the sound of a crash with destruction seems parallel. a great way to describe it!
Nathan, an excellent poem! One of the best I've read today. Doesn't say too much, but just enough.
I like the party hat. Perhaps all endings should be celebrated as a matter of course.
I like the party hat. Perhaps all endings should be celebrated as a matter of course.
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