Poem

We flatter ourselves
to think

that when the aliens come
tens of thousands of years from now
they will find
the remnants of


great

civilization.

Nope. Sorry. All will be dust. 

We won't get even the immorality 
of memory,
of a tombstone,
of a monument,
a reminder to the universe
that we
were
here.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why John Brascia is the secret hero of Bing Crosby's "White Christmas."

So I hate my fucking colostomy

Mr. Mom Chronicles: Working At Home