The Poetry Project

End Times

Janice Beeghly

We were nestled under our favorite quilt
In the middle of the night, wrapped around each other-–

He gently squeezed my shoulder.

“Will it hurt?” he asked me. “Will it hurt us when the
world finally explodes? Will it hurt?”

“No,” I answered him quietly. “It won’t hurt because
at the very moment that we know the explosion is happening-–
not one moment before but at the very moment of-–
we’ll swallow whiskey and Valium and we’ll fall asleep
and we won’t know anything else-–we’ll be sound

“Okay.” he answered. He threw his arm around me again
and fell back asleep.

I lay awake with thoughts of end times in my head.

Work from Boo: Ghosts and the Unconscious for Utopian Dreaming with Claire Donato & Adrian Shirk