A Modest Eschatology
Have you considered those parts of your body
That have been dropped off in various places?
You know, the haircut in the city, that was shoddy,
The pit stop on the way there?
When the trumpet sounds, what will arise?!
I bet there have been bits of me shared
With others on the way to Jerusalem’s’ skies.
Undoubtedly a cosmic traffic jam.
However…let’s say that the Bang ends
With time running backwards!
I would jump from my grave, my friends,
And collect parts on the way to the womb.
The future would be open to all
And the past a closed book.
The alpha would become the omega scrawl
The end of this poem…a new beginning.
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