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The Search For a New World

By STEVIE KILGORE, May 10, 2022

the reddened iris of a furious star

orange and fiery in the cold black

opens itself to the blue

flaming tendrils jutting like static

steaming liquid into sand

the creaking of a behemoth

is swallowed by the cold black

and twinkling white-hot holes

a vacuum of space

and humanity’s last hope of survival

she is barren and coughing

lungs dried like raisins or little

smoker’s exhales, 2 pack

barely awake at the co-pilot seat

chewing her cheek to stay conscious

as the heat overwhelms the mancala board

she drives the dirge, a compact

cargo boat in the sky

blackened and darkened and gyrating

shadows as it passes the sun.

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