When Liz says it’s the end of the world

Well there’s no use pretending anymore.

The sun setting tonight is angry

The sun setting tonight is out for revenge

How do we know Jesus Christ and Mohammad and Buddha

Were not the children of the sun

and not the cool moon.

We don’t

But she will let us know

Liz has an ice pool and all the children are there,

the valleys are burning and she tells me maybe,

maybe it’s the end of the world,

And I don’t know what to say.

But they have pizzas from Costco,

And I have a bottle of wine..

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12 thoughts on “When Liz says it’s the end of the world

  1. I was wondering myself the other night, when I saw a scary orange waxing moon, why it is that the sun and moon still activate some primal fear instinct in us, even though, we unlike our distant ancestors, know what they are?

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  2. From my old pal, Roger Zelasney: “Don’t wake me for the end of the world unless it has very good special effects.”

    We are in that phase of human history. We’ve been here before, but not exactly in this way. Doomsday Glacier is always moving up the day it’s going to collapse. Millions on the cusp. Oh well, we all seem to be doing the best we can. Did you like that one character in Ruby in Paradise? I think his name was Mike. Decent guy and right in what he was saying. I think the movie is from about 1992. Casting pearls before swine is what we should be a very large sign in our temples and halls of government, but we won’t and then the fires will come for all of us or the waves or the illness, something damnable. Duke P.S. Nice poem. I noticed you didn’t put periods at the end of some of the sentences and I thought, my god, I’ve started a trend. Probably not, more likely just some late night musing over that bottle of wine. Fair enough.

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    1. I think you mean the boyfriend who rode the motorcycle . I had a friend who sat in alleyways late at night and recorded the sounds – he was a lot like that character. I never expected human beings to last this long but Liz is generally more upbeat.

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  3. Punctuation. Please.
    How else will I know to hit the ENTER key in my mind?

    I
    load the
    DRAM in my
    head with words until
    the writer’s directives indicates that
    I should hit enter, thereby compiling
    the sequence of words into a single cogent
    concept.

    CMEs, poised on the lips of the sun,
    send flares like spittle spraying into our faces
    preceding a phlegmy cough of foul plasma,
    set to collapse the brittle gadgets that control our lives.

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  4. I read it as Liz, Lizzy, the freshly deceased Royal whose body decays behind thick glass while hushed lines of commoners strain velvet ropes for a closer glimpse of Death’s dominion. The Reaper and his storied scythe have cut down everyone great and small without a speck of compunction, and so too shall it continue. Doom is thick in the air and soon its undeniability will be choking us all, especially those who right now are bristling with sentimental anguish at the sight of their late idol, as well as those who’re paying respects more at the behest of a curiosity about the dull, dumb look of a corpse, and then, perhaps above all, the suffocating miasma of doom will gather in the windy lungs of the Robespierres who’re only wanting to make damn sure the object of their hatred is, in fact, dead.

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    1. I hadn’t put the two together but you’re right. I take it you don’t believe that Charlie’s going to save the world? I lost all respect for royalty after touring the Crown Jewels. All that glitz stored only yards from where they decapitated Lady Jane Grey and others just for spite. Blood and diamonds.

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      1. From what I heard, Prince Charles never deigned to put the toothpaste on his own toothbrush, and I’m sure it’s the same with his majesty King Charles III, which doesn’t bode well when it comes to big jobs like saving humanity from planning its own obsolescence, as it were.

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