NEW FEATHERS ANTHOLOGY
  • Home
  • Current Issue
  • Issues
  • About
  • Submit
  • New Feathers Award
  • Donate
  • Bookshop
  • Thanks
Previous
Next
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
Previous
Next
Tweet
Share
  • Home
  • Current Issue
  • Issues
  • About
  • Submit
  • New Feathers Award
  • Donate
  • Bookshop
  • Thanks