preparing for the end of the world

I’ve been on a disaster film kick lately:
There’s something romantic—and appealing—
About the storylines of disaster films.
Knowing that the fate of the world
Is completely out of your control,
It’s relieving really.
As the sky comes crashing down,
You don’t have to worry about
That painting you never finished.
You don’t have to worry about
Remembering birthdays,
Or running red lights or taking your vitamins,
Or making sure your hair doesn’t look too stupid,
Or finding a practical job or paying the rent on time.
You don’t have to worry about
Keeping track of the pain of the surrounding villages,
Or mourn over road kill or your dead car,
Or worry about your friend’s sick mother,
Or the ghosts on Riverside,
Or the meth head that creeps around in the ditches at night.
Trying to stay alive becomes your only priority.
Everything else is trivial.

Things would be easier,
Besides the impending doom.

If the world were ending,
I wouldn’t have to concern myself
With finding love,
Only with finding a way
To stay alive.



Hope for the best,
Prepare for the worst, they say.
And I would.
I’d map out escape routes,
Pack practical provisions
Of bread and cheese,
Gather my friends
And my worthwhile relatives,
Board up the house,
Break out the booze
And hope to god we live
To see another day.

(Unless the aliens were coming,
In which case, I’d promptly
Mow a crop circle in my front yard
Asking them kindly
To beam me up off of this planet.
And I’d never look back.


Unless they were hostile.
In which case,
We’d be fucked.)




Unfortunately, the world isn’t ending.
And we have to deal with life as it is:
Disastrous, and certainly not over.







Things always seem to go south all at once,
And then they get worse.
And you can’t just ignore the warning signs,
You might lose a foot.



We all have scores to settle,
Pieces to glue back together again.
I suppose it all just boils down to
A matter of whether or not
We chose to take on the world
By ourselves
Or
With the aid of our allies.

The table is set.
The guests are all seated.
Do you tell them the party is over?
Or do you
Join hands,
Break bread,
Assess the situation,
Weigh out options,
And try to figure out a solution
Together.








It’s rough out there.
Just remember,




















You’re not in this alone.