I’d rather read about dinosaurs
than think about relationships.
Both end in extinctions,
but I prefer the one 65 million years ago
To the here, now, or tomorrow.
Of course, birds are the happy ending
to cosmic cataclysm
But, few will grow feathers and fly free.
Instead, we’ll grow heavy and hard,
fossilize in the muck
all around us.
History is made of calcified hopes.
Nothing is permanent,
Just ask the Permians.
Sometimes it pulls apart like Pangaea,
a tsunami of lava,
or hell from the sky.
Sometimes the end is the slow burn of
410 parts per million of atmospheric carbon.
Acidic endings with starved oceans
and polar bear skeletons.
Whether by man or by mother earth,
in the end….everything ends.