"Christmas," a Weird Catastrophe Poem

                                                                   Christmas

                 I’ve seen another world pass by
                 in the furrow of your brow,
                 seen all of creation drowned 
                 in the quick lick of your lips,
                 ancient ruins swept to dust 
                 by the lightest touch of your arm,
                 billions of beating hearts rose and fell
                 with the expansions and contractions 
                 of your ribcage,

                 the songs we sang were mighty to destroy

                 and when I saw you standing there 
                 that bright winter’s day,
                 squinting your eyes in the sunlight,
                 thinking, I’m sure, of the prospects 
                 of new novels and poems 
                 and fresh dirt beneath fingernails,

                 I prayed then,
                 I prayed,
                 tell me,
                 touch me,

                 before another world passes by,
                 before it’s all gone,

                 pray,
                 show me how it’s done.

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