The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On

by Franny Choi

By the time the apocalypse began, the world had already ended.

Lord, I confess I want the clarity of catastrophe but not the catastrophe. Like everyone else, I want a storm I can dance in. I want an excuse to change my life.

Grief’s a heavy planet, and green.

you who wants comfort, who are you? have you been a comfort too?

Look: paradise is both a particle and a wave.

Scrambled by need, I say, I want to give you my bones, all my language rendered useless at your feet.