After the Rapture
Veritas sequitur esse Nobody drowned in the flood. In the beginning, the sky could not fail. The first raindrops took men By surprise. Everyone died Of shock. But when man was born Again, he liked words enough To see if wilted might indeed modify Trees, so he drove toward an edge, Ran out of gas, turned back To look at the desert, and like a nation Testing its best weapons In locations empty, unmarked, Vast, he shredded himself With glass, spilled into and over Unnamable stretches of land, Concrete, water, hands. Then, The real killing began. The cacti Leaked and lost their needles. A few Men prayed. And we prayed to win.