epic by Steven Schroeder

Most every time the world ends, it ends

in some imbroglio over noise, too

much, not enough, silent gods fed up

with the clamor downstairs, histrionic

bullies shouting where were you from whirlwinds,

somebody who doesn't like the music,

and forgetting. A bang, a whimper,

the terrible silence of a man

who does not recall his other son,

who makes promises when lightning strikes

or wars begin, who gives up children

because he cannot hold his tongue, because

he will not hold his tongue, because he does

not hold his tongue, because he does. Curses

enough for everyone in this epic,

those who remember, those who forget,

those who will die, those who wish they could.

Steven Schroeder, Chicago, USA