After Judgment Day

by: Willow Kang

The rain is offensive

like a missile launching from a meadow,

damp like moss gone bad

expired fungi, depressed mold

Someone is misspelling words in the tree canopies

you want to yell at them

about what to do in the trees

kissing & not battling monkeys for a room in the ghetto

There will be no graveyard sleepovers today.

the ghosts have been bulldozed

soggy remnants of what were contented fireworks

mutter in their sleep about news from the border

Juliette weeps in the playroom, orange floors churning

Satyrs hop in, on their way to Paris

for a funeral, a horde of ivory hooves,

unbearably naive of how much we want

them butchered to concoct healing crystals.

Today is when angels decide to slumber