i.
The world is ending.
The ocean has frozen over
and everything above the ocean is alive
and everything below the ocean is dead.
The whole island of Manhattan is underwater
and the Sea of Japan is littered with the carcasses of dead swans.
I saw one perch itself in the branches of the old oak tree,
and heard it whisper to me
about ghosts not being real,
about swans not being able to perch in trees, and
about the world not being able to end
in the wintertime.
ii.
I woke up in a bed made of light,
and when I tried to walk,
my legs were attached to stilts
that were tall enough
to let me sit on a cloud.
There are bits of you in my hair.
I am on fire, or,
part of me is. I still don’t know
which part.
All the people in Guernica and Avignon are screaming
and the old oak tree just fell,
in spite of itself.
iii.
Have you ever seen a parade, where the floats are full of frozen ocean water?
Me neither.
But I think if I found myself
trapped inside of one of those floats,
I couldn’t be sure
if I was above the water
or below it.