“Big Autumn Bull Thistle” © Julianne Powers

 

Bespoke Apocalypse

I’d like flowers in the sky, falling
to engulf traffic under the weight
of their petals. Flames in the Fortune
500 buildings and those they’ve bought.
The sky full of ashes; I like
to pour them in my coffee for a little pep.
The water taps keep going.
We can shit in a bucket and empty
it on Wallstreet. Same for
the politicians, the country singers.
It’s the poor, as always, pay the tab
when the bar closes. The billionaires
dying in their rockets on the way
to Mars. Loan me a missile,
and I’ll pay you back ASAP.
None of that running you see on TV.
The zombies all voted to die in the sun.
Get to know your neighbors. Plant
a garden and hope for the best.
We can eat squirrels. Deer. The rich.
No one is coming to save us.
They can’t even save themselves
without a lobbyist and campaign donations.
The thing I miss the most is things.
But it finally got me off the dating apps.

 

CL Bledsoe has written a bunch of books you’ve never heard of. He plays in a band you’ve never heard of. He lives in northern Virginia, which you’ve surely heard of, with his daughter, who wishes she’d never heard of him.

Julianne Powers is an artist, poet, and writer from the South Shore of Massachusetts. Julianne studied classical guitar and herbalism, and she enjoys photography, crafts, and gardening.