by Zack Rogow
Does it all add up to zero
in the eyes of the distant stars—
our little kisses along the chin
our towers all eventually leaning
our mortal languages
the newest metaphors still hot as ingots
our bubbling planet cooling toward frost
In the eyes of the stars
our bodies
are mere transparent jelly
our loves
just a story
with chemical words
The stars with their dark sunglasses
gaze on the future demise of our species
impassive as gangsters
Or is it we
who point to the stars
and lap up their sparkle
knowing they also dazzle and die