Originally posted 8/3/2013.
Currently I am in transition
from easily visible, solid, and present
to softly hazed and hard to see.
You offer sympathy?
I turn it gently aside.
Nothing painful to this. I am, rightly or not,
beginning to fade from view,
preparing to sleep through
the obvious slow apocalypse.
All the signs point to an end coming,
from the hot wind and the scarce bees
to gray water in the Arctic
where permafrost is relinquishing its hold.
The sequence of expected events is not important
and how my time will slide out from under me
is not important.
I am in this moment, called now,
remember my history, called then;
none of us own any of it
and none of us will decide
what happens after us.
Most of us are going to be forgotten
the moment we’re done.
When it comes, that ending, that curtain —
when it comes it will come in obliquely.
It will not be swift. It will take a long time to happen.
It has taken a long time already.
When it comes, that disaster, that shaking off,
when it comes I pray that I will be asleep
and I will not be dreaming.
Currently I am in transition,
waiting in the now that will erase the then eventually.
Perhaps I am a whore or a broken seal
but I am no horseman riding frantically, no multi-headed beast,
certainly not a soldier in any army evil or righteous.
See instead this body bloated and sluggish
and this mind resigning position after position.
See how hard it is becoming
to lay a finger on me.