Near the End: The End Is Near
Jack Donahue
Near the end of things
Strings weave the robin’s nest
On the branch of a fallen tree
Glass bottles collected
From culverts, wells and dumps
Made into a house
Bottoms out
Noses, necks and jagged jaws in
Through which are viewed
Mountains of poached ivory tusks
A piquant pinch of syrup and slime
The climate change of mind
A lava lamp ooze of colors
Mixed in a paint store
A bleached brain
Waves at the faint light
The beep and chirp heard
Of a car key remotely
Spinning a driverless car
Roundabout in towns
Evacuated until it finds a child
With a conch to her ear
What do you hear
The end is near
Jack Donahue
Near the end of things
Strings weave the robin’s nest
On the branch of a fallen tree
Glass bottles collected
From culverts, wells and dumps
Made into a house
Bottoms out
Noses, necks and jagged jaws in
Through which are viewed
Mountains of poached ivory tusks
A piquant pinch of syrup and slime
The climate change of mind
A lava lamp ooze of colors
Mixed in a paint store
A bleached brain
Waves at the faint light
The beep and chirp heard
Of a car key remotely
Spinning a driverless car
Roundabout in towns
Evacuated until it finds a child
With a conch to her ear
What do you hear
The end is near