The End of the Anthropocene as Told by Someone Who Cannot Predict the Future
The hairline of the land disappeared.
Age did not find Earth naturally—
Razed by man, bald of trees and plants,
Cities plugged in their place like a bad toupee.
The air turned grey.
Rich with the remnants of coal and oil
That once burned holes in the pockets of men.
Now, air greedily burns men’s lungs.
The great ocean swelled up,
Meeting the gaping mouths of skylines
With the all-consuming kiss of reunited lovers long parted—
In a fit of passion, she swallowed the Earth.