Poem-A-Day #94 : Making Brownies (An Apocalypse)

Making Brownies (An Apocalypse)

There are days after the apocalypse where we only eat brownies with whatever berries we can find

This is appropriate - it is the only recipe card left - the others are burnt
the ink on them invisible under the dark colors across their surfaces

One still has a smudge of red on it - jelly? - and another has a little drawing of a strawberry - but the foods on them have faded

How are we still making brownies?

There are no eggs or chocolate - there's water and flour but it's made from grass - no milk or butter or anything resembling sugar...

But here they are - this time with those little red berries that are bitter until you cook the hell out of them and then they are just mush

The card says to bake them in an oven that we don't have - the sun does the trick

Poem-A-Day #43 : Drake & Fermi

Drake & Fermi

          There must        
                            be hotline bling          in the universe
                                                     HA
                    And we must be able to quantify that

I see what you did there - and the unanswered call is the one where your mother tells you your father was in an accident and is dead is gone is nevercomingback...
                                                  Let's be clear about the emptiness of space - the drifting tilting tombs of the big bang that can never reflect anything but their nothingness...
                 It's fucking empty

                                                                     The equation of leaving the city
                                 that is the earth
                                                        The math of going out more - meeting new people

                Tell me that SETI doesn't want a friend to call when that accident happens

It all breaks apart if anyone picks up the phone -
                                                            leaves a message or -
                                        emails an out of the office notice
                                                                           Maybe there's a signpost - a sort of neon club sign that is suddenly in view at some as yet unattained step - do we even know the steps - the
                                                                                                                                      m
                                                                                                                                    o        s
                                                                                                                                       v  e

                            Your {The R/The L} feet - they are melting as they near the horizon
                   as they become fodder for the cow of the universe {black hole]

          It's sad to see this           it can only mean one thing
                                                                                                    the crashed car unfolds itself
the station to station of our talking echoes into the heavens
                                                                       somewhere
                                                                                                  the sound of Motorola
                                        and that guy from that commercial asking if you can hear him now -

Source - LIGO Collaboration