I couldn’t get behind the end of the world
not because I don’t believe
we could collide with another planet
or slip like a hunk of soap
into the drain
of the galaxy’s black hole.
It’s just that they picked a day
when everyone is so busy
you practically have to get naked
to get a cab.
To steal us all away
in the midst of a mass of errands
seems mismatched,
like breaking up with someone
while they pee.
The Mayans should have cast the doom
on Christmas instead
when everyone is gathered
on that strangely quiet day,
as though waiting
for something to happen.