the last man
by Maggie Wu
the bones of moss and rot cushion mine
(the burnt-out ground of trillions of years)
it's dark out because the sun's gone down
(and hasn't come up since it went out)
i'm trying to go to sleep
i'm counting the stars
(and they keep moving.)
but it's impossible to fall asleep now.
i know that, somewhere in the back of my mind, my head
(it'll come with the mold
to my frontal cortex)
i can't.
once you decide to live
(and live and live)
there's no going back
no turning back the stars and cosmos and
(the sun)
because it's just me now.
no one to turn back for.
just me now. me and my body. my body is slowly decaying with the big dipper and my mind,
my mind was gone long ago.
i can feel the nerves in my flesh fraying, snapping, wearing away
the synapses in my brain are slowly going out
that's good
finally
light pollution has a solution
i have no legs to stand on any more
(no nerves, no pain
no limbs, no legs)
but i can always see the sky.
watch the clouds roll in
heavy and pregnant with the evaporated blood
of the people
(who could always forgive it
and look where that got them)
the acid rain rolls into my eyes
(my nose, my mouth--
wherever that's gone)
the unforgiving echoes of a million lives
one million years later
the alcoholic petrichor is still imprinted onto
(my memories of)
my olfactory senses
and i
i am still trying to sleep
i
i am still counting the stars.
by Maggie Wu
the bones of moss and rot cushion mine
(the burnt-out ground of trillions of years)
it's dark out because the sun's gone down
(and hasn't come up since it went out)
i'm trying to go to sleep
i'm counting the stars
(and they keep moving.)
but it's impossible to fall asleep now.
i know that, somewhere in the back of my mind, my head
(it'll come with the mold
to my frontal cortex)
i can't.
once you decide to live
(and live and live)
there's no going back
no turning back the stars and cosmos and
(the sun)
because it's just me now.
no one to turn back for.
just me now. me and my body. my body is slowly decaying with the big dipper and my mind,
my mind was gone long ago.
i can feel the nerves in my flesh fraying, snapping, wearing away
the synapses in my brain are slowly going out
that's good
finally
light pollution has a solution
i have no legs to stand on any more
(no nerves, no pain
no limbs, no legs)
but i can always see the sky.
watch the clouds roll in
heavy and pregnant with the evaporated blood
of the people
(who could always forgive it
and look where that got them)
the acid rain rolls into my eyes
(my nose, my mouth--
wherever that's gone)
the unforgiving echoes of a million lives
one million years later
the alcoholic petrichor is still imprinted onto
(my memories of)
my olfactory senses
and i
i am still trying to sleep
i
i am still counting the stars.