Archive
10/20/08 - (1)
Dark Times
The days grow shorter and shorter. The mornings, when I leave for work, are dark, Not appreciably lighter than midnight — the same.
What if this umbral phenomenon Were unrelated to planetary orbits, ellipses, rotations, Rather were directly connected to solar degradation,
And astrophysicists were in possession of verifiable evidence Suggesting the atomic conflagration of the sun Had, definitely, entered its red-giant phase?
What then, indeed, might I ponder, Knowing that, within a matter of years, months, days, The ultimate extinction of Earth's light, heat,
Would spell the end of humanity's frantic antics, The ceaseless energy it spends on perpetuating civilization? Would I kill myself, out of inutterable hopelessness,
Decide to stick around, to witness Revelation's end times, Or chalk off all the scientific prattle-chatter as hogwash, Just another War of the Worlds hoax?
"How should I know?" I mildly chide myself, As I navigate the catacombal streets leading from my house. "Thoughts this philosophical are out of my bailiwick.
"I've got problems so much more catastrophic That the sun going dark can't hold a candle, literally, To my apocalypse: the 'IN FORECLOSURE' sign on my lawn."
10/20/08 - (1)
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