By Kat O’Brian
You wouldn’t expect the end of the world to come with blue skies.
There should be chaos, not a chill in the air.
But right now as it all comes crashing, crashing down.
There are no clouds, just sunshine.
And you wouldn’t think that your routine would be the same at the end of the world.
A 9 to 5 doldrum.
The same commute, but quicker now.
Radio silence, followed by the same news of dead bodies and closed cities.
Yet, it’s the end of the world and NPR keeps playing,
Back and to that office building.
Turning key after key, because doors are still locked during the end of the world.
But safely behind your desk, past three locked doors, it feels like a Tuesday.
And your stomach still moans during the end of the world. Packed lunches full of leftovers.
Microwave trays keep spinning and spinning.
Vending machines, still being filled.
Because what’s this show without a snack.
Emails still come to you even though it’s the end of the world.
Kind phrases, reminding colleagues to wash hands and keep away. To stay safe.
Everything becomes electronic during the end of the world.
1s and 0s coding well wishes and project deadlines.
And your drive back home is the same at the end of the world.
But it’s almost spring, so the sun has not been shut off for the day.
As gravel plays endless riffs on your windows.
Looking back to the sky, between a pock marked windshield.
But your life is pretty much the same, even though it’s the end of the world.
But you wouldn’t think it. Wouldn’t think it’s the end.
Because the skies haven’t been this blue in months.
The rivers have never been so clean. Nature is already ready. For this to be, the end.