Kathy Nilsson
It won't be long before earth leaves you
Before you move your skeleton around in a wheelbarrow
Like a Venetian chandelier.
Heat from your hands can't keep the lights on.
Your animals end up living inside you.
You empty pinch bottles
And collapse tiny clipper ships onto papier-mâché seas
Ignoring the low screech coming billions of miles towards you.
Your last thoughts settle down like fleas
In bedrooms made from whole cloth in the annals of orchids.