Sunday, 5 August 2012

Stopwatch by Jason Sturner

Everyone is dead.
Slumped against steering wheels,
on the floors of kitchens and bedrooms,
face down in swimming pools.

Bodies litter the malls,
the halls of prestigious universities,
they're in hospitals and sports bars,
at desks in corporate offices.

In the center of the oval office
lays the body of our president,
maggots crawl out
from beneath her eyelids.

The rats beneath the streets
lift their heads and twitch their noses.
Vultures fly off trees
into waves of decay.

Remnants of humanity crumble,
are buried, eroded and grown over.
We are dust and fossils; we are history.
The planet is lush and productive.

Out in an unnamed ocean
a new breed of dolphin is born,
its flippers more like modified claws.
One day, it will use them to grasp the shoreline.


Jason Sturner, Illinois, USA

This poem was  first published in Down in the Dirt Magazine, June 2009

5 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

Bio: Jason Sturner grew up in the Fox River Valley in northern Illinois, where he has worked as an elevator operator, rock drummer, graphic designer, naturalist and botanist. He currently lives near the Great Smoky Mountains. Website: www.jasonsturner.blogspot.com

mybabyjohn/Delores said...

And around we will go again.

Sandip said...

Lucid, Thought Provoking...

Andrea McBride said...

Love the new breed of dolphin. That's what puts me there. And "grasp the shoreline", that's awesome.

ophidio76 said...

What an image "vultures fly off trees, into waves of decay." I can see them sailing the skies on their black curtains, harbingers of death, AND change.
I like the simple way this comes full circle.
What does it all mean, that the president was a female? Hahaha