PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

The Asteroids are Hiding Behind the Sun


“Huge Asteroid Missed Earth, Another in 2029 May Not!” ~scarletwhore.com They're out there, looking for them, in telescopes and shuttles, because they can't see them like I can. I can feel them passing us in space, 2.1 million miles out but pressing down on me. I hear them singing, buzzing, laughing. They are waiting to get us. They say a catastrophic asteroid hits the earth once every 100,000 years. Do you remember the last one? It could mean we're due. I keep a chart of the night sky, next to an old photo of her, and mark each one I hear at night. The hours tick by, I draw them with white marker on blue pages. They're preparing for the big one to hit Antarctica. They've built bunkers and underground shelters. The secret military base under the ice won't be under the ice for long, the oceans will rise 70 feet, we're all gonna be swimming, then. They say that one is coming in 2012, tipping their hats to the ancient calendars in stone, but I don't think that's the one. The big one will be in 2029, Apophis. Because the end of the world always has a name. I think Apophis is already here, watching us, I can hear him out there, sneaking around between Jupiter and Saturn, pretending at being a little moon, mooning us. Behind the sun, he's plotting how he will end us, embrace the ravished earth and strip her of her clothes, but he doesn't know I'm listening. I can stop him, when he comes. I will fly away from earth in a copper rocket with the world's last atomic bomb, which are both stored in a grain silo in Utah, which I have placed money down on to buy. I will fly into Apophis with the photo in my hand I will say her name one last time before my molecules are melted, and Superman couldn't have done it better. That night, in Apophis's ashes, the only sound the earth will hear is her name, falling through space, no more laughing comets, not ever.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.