making the bed during the apocalypse

making the bed during the apocalypse




The book of Exodus

was written for an audience,

an antagonist 

who became

whatever we needed him to be,

Pharaoh and a heart that was unyielding,

seven plagues were enough

for Moses to speak up,

but the Lord said, “No.”

A question

atop a man

before his eyes 

wake to the morning,

to see the future

is to forecast 

an economic overcast,

“I don’t know anyone 

who could pull $2500 

for a one bedroom.”

But three months ago 

they demolished a tribute to the past

making room for Babel 

and a tower containing one-hundred more.

What’s the use for a bookstore

when video streams inside your head,

imagination outsourced to history

as memory 

serves only our part of the story.

A 400 year term

and an attempted pardon

by the four types of sentences:

  1. Let my people go.

  2. Let my people go.

  3. Let my people go?

  4. Let my people go!

But for the seventh time

Pharaoh’s heart was hardened

and he said, “No.”

That’s the thing about reading,

you can live multiple lives besides your own.

Want to know what it’s like 

to have an imagination out to sea?

Moby Dick.

Like to travel down the racist past

on a wooden raft 

with a man of a different color 

while breathing in the fresh air of the Mississippi? 

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

How about

learning the fact that

the difference between good and evil 

lies in the ability to define both

and still choose the right ending?

East of Eden.

That leaves us

with the current stasis 

we’re contained in,

eventually

even the most novice of writers learn

if nothing happens

then you have no story;

the difference 

between reading and writing

is that one

is like falling asleep,

while the other

is akin to controlling your dreams.

Moses said, “No.”

But the Lord replied, “Go.”

“Please send someone else.”

And the Lord's anger burned,

“Ok then,” He said. “What about poetry?”

“You shall write,

putting words into stanzas

as I teach you what to do.”

And the man sat up to his day,

looking out the window 

at the disaster the world had become

and began to make his bed,

knowing that it was all going to be ok. 

Dan Parks