The Last Night of the Earth Poems

I knew that I was dying.

something in me said, go ahead, die, sleep, become as

them, accept.

then something else in me said, no, save the tiniest

bit.

it needn’t be much, just a spark.

a spark can set a whole forest on

fire.

just a spark.

save it.

I think I did.

I’m glad I did.

what a lucky god damned

thing.

my wrists are rivers my fingers are words

if I had a book or a drink then I didn’t think too much of
other things—fools create their own
paradise.