Hyakutake

Stirring the neighbors from their beds

In a paper-doll chain,

The comet descends and displays its wares,

Some strung-out peddler

Bangs tin on a street cart.

Somewhere, a horse trembles in a field,

Lit blue by the specter

Of death taken cold,

Shot through the blood sparkling.

Somewhere a chorus

Is promised the easy out

Of a brand-new apocalypse.

And a man holds a child to the window

In a city that will

Swallow them whole. She will grow old

Before she knows what she’s seen,

The tail a promise,

The container infinity.