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.
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