Stopwatch

Everyone is dead.
Slumped against steering wheels,
on the floors of kitchens and bedrooms,
face down in swimming pools.

Bodies litter the malls,

the halls of prestigious universities,
they're in hospitals and sports bars,
at desks in corporate offices.

In the center of the Oval Office

lies the body of our president,
maggots crawl out
from beneath her eyelids.

The rats beneath the streets

lift their heads and twitch their noses.
Vultures fly off trees
into waves of decay.

Remnants of humanity crumble,

are buried, eroded and grown over.
We are dust and fossils; we are history.
The planet is lush and productive.

Out in an unnamed ocean

a new breed of dolphin is born,
its flippers more like modified claws.
One day, it will use them to grasp the shoreline.


From the book Selected Poems 2004-2007. Listen to an audio version of the poem here.