Some say the Mayans were seers who foretold the end of the world, but they left earth early just in case they made an error in calculations.
how the mind
glitters more than gold
Spanish invaders
Others claim, “The Apocalypse is NOW”, and are already building bunkers, stockpiling food and water, gathering arms and munitions.
solar flares
how global satellites
turn to ash
There’s this guy who lives on the corner who still has a ticket to ride from the OBSpaceman. He wants to hold a séance to see if it’s okay to bring his girlfriend.
green flash at sunset
scent of patchouli
tinfoil helmets
Another neighbor is a stockbroker trading futures for today.
contemplating scurvy
in zero-g
hydroponic tomatoes
The neighborhood watch program is hosting a disaster preparedness seminar. The children are kept busy making starships and aliens out of orange-scented fluorescent clay.
survival gear camouflaged
the scent of chocolate
chip cookies
My family’s already in the desert, but I haven’t heard from them for a while. It’s possible they aren’t receiving signals. When you arrive, be sure to remind them to turn left, then proceed to the landing zone. If you miss the transport, there’s a portal buried beneath that meteor. Don’t worry about the odd hum or high-voltage arcs, as they’re really just for show.
please don’t feed
the humans. . .
postcards from space
Author's Note: This poem was published under a different title appeared in BigPulp, I believe.
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