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.
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
ReplyDeleteAnd around we will go again.
ReplyDeleteLucid, Thought Provoking...
ReplyDeleteLove the new breed of dolphin. That's what puts me there. And "grasp the shoreline", that's awesome.
ReplyDeleteWhat 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.
ReplyDeleteI like the simple way this comes full circle.
What does it all mean, that the president was a female? Hahaha