Look on My Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair Matt

Sowerby

It’s OK. After the last of us have gone— the last poets, or the last people who remember there were poets— things will begin to get better. Some animals will survive. Some monuments will be swallowed by deserts or oceans and that's fine. The world is not ending, only us. and you, you’ll be made immortal by a plastic whale the same size as a baby’s fist, trapped somewhere that once had a name — remember it? The Earth won’t stop spinning, it’s the one thing it knows how to do.