Long Distance Megan Hill

Long Distance

Megan Hill

The Last Sprout on Earth

First came floods and forest fires, then five years of drought Morale was running low, and the food was running out The only rations that remained were jars of sauerkraut When sandstorms finally settled all that stood was a small sprout

I gently scooped the soil that surrounded its short roots Then I placed the plant down carefully inside my hiking boot And I hobbled home so I could build the sprout a robot suit That could nurture and protect the plant from pillage and pollutants

But weather’s getting worse, and they predict that by July The earth will be too toxic for us humans to survive One day I will come back for you, it’s not our last goodbye Farewell my friend! So long sweet sprout! I’m taking to the sky!

Ella Giordano

an ode to “i know the end” by phoebe bridgers

this particular apocalypse is a delight: a praise song of the fact that the end is near; an exclamation of joy amid the ruins; a teethwide tonguelight shout into the approaching void

a chorus of trumpets announcing our collapse into nothingness; a dissertation on the dissolve; a seeing, a knowing and a transformation of individual fear into collective exuberance

the voices call out: we know we know we know the end is near

the voices answer: we’ll see you on the other side

up in the air Margaret Wiss

the grail

Zora Duncan