An acoustic guitar at the end of the world has only three strings
but no one has set the body
Someone tried but now his bones have turned to a xylophone,
the heart eaten out
The band at the end of the world will play the worst song you’ve ever heard,
the most primal chord,
a voice like hell echoing
from a canyon, or the bottom
of a well
From the bottom of a well a sound, will bend around,
before finally escaping through the keyhole of the sun.
The sun at the end of the world moves unmapped, almost trapped
like a child’s drawing in a corner, a clock running
useless circles for an empty room.
A computer at the end of the world will laugh at you,
The way you taught it to.
It will execute the way you taught it, too.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
I say it will electrocute you in the foot of water
flooding the ground floor.
At the end of the world heaven is imagined
As that pitch black place
Between all stars, and time, and collisions of gravity.