Thursday, January 20, 2011

The End Of The World Shaken Not Stirred

A pilothouse sailboat, a midsize boat,
is large enough for its own laundry room.

Companies make washer-dryer units
that fit inside a little cabinet.

This has become a goal I’m working toward.
When the continents sink under the waves—

the black, oil-stained waves hot from lava flows—
I want to be sailing into the gloom

reading peacefully by electric light
and I want to wear a clean, dry tee shirt

that smells like Gain Joyful Expressions soap.
I know we can’t fight the Apocalypse

but with careful financial management
and high technology we can fight dirt.

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