Hyakutake
Stirring the neighbors from their beds
In a paper-doll chain,
The comet descends and displays its wares,
Some strung-out peddler
Bangs tin on a street cart.
Somewhere, a horse trembles in a field,
Lit blue by the specter
Of death taken cold,
Shot through the blood sparkling.
Somewhere a chorus
Is promised the easy out
Of a brand-new apocalypse.
And a man holds a child to the window
In a city that will
Swallow them whole. She will grow old
Before she knows what she’s seen,
The tail a promise,
The container infinity.
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