Desperate Poetry Before The End Of Time

desperate poetry before the end of time

kneel, poets, before the end of time!
kneel, poets, surrender to your defeat!

at the far edge of a still expanding universe
lurks the inevitable heat-death of all creation

reality will melt and words will lose their reference
when language itself pales and trembles before god!

his molten flaming dance subjugates all grammar
as he stomps on the crushed skulls of tense and number,
snaps under his slender feet the fragile grasp of every clause,
scatters word order like dust across the stage

this dance, the ultimate act of god, destroying, destroying absolutely

surrender, poets!
admit that your words and language
the very grammar of your minds
will always be outdone
you may weave words to deceive
to make believe knowledge
some primitive security
but you will all be slain
when the inexorable inexpressible
onslaught of reality
carries you away

surrender, poets!
and admit that you, yes you
you love this killer

reality’s final breakdown will be a grammatically challenged moment that never subsides, a moment of perception that can literally never be named or ever even approximate being named because what it signifies is the end of time and the end of space and the end of life and the end of everything which has a meaning, a moment we can only hint at, because naming it would mean knowing it, and knowing it would mean that even faith would evaporate, and the self would be decapitated. then even if god’s words still existed, we’d have nothing to speak them through or with. even these pronouns, we, and verbs, have, would evaporate, poof poof! like people mysteriously fading from photographs in those time-travel movies you saw as a child.

memories disappear, meanings dissolve, minds unravel

your words slow to a crawl, kick once, then are still

god is all