Kimberly Johnson

Big Finish
June 9, 2013 Johnson Kimberly

Big Finish

 

Now that the last shaft of sunset has collapsedhttp://plumepoetry.brownrice.com/2013/06/big-finish/?preview=true

into that rubble of cloud, let’s dust off

and see how bright the stars are, the disclosed

vault spinning like a discoball been drilled

smack into Polaris. My oracle’s

a bullhorn for the endtimes, portending

wars and rumors of wars in the stars’ course

headlong through the heavens. And even though

the astrophysicists as in chorus

to the oracle declare that all this sparkle,

every spectacular atom of it,

is a death, the expired light of bodies

that have burned themselves down to nothing,

yet they are so bright, and shimmery,

and to shimmy seems their light to me,

sequins tilting into a spotlight.

Don’t they move like jubilation on their wheel?

And don’t they flash with brash abandon?

And if finally they should quit their spheres

and fall upon us, their apocalypse

will surely seem a shower not of wormwood

but confetti, gleeful streaking

down the sackcloth dark to pronounce our doom

a wop bop a loo-bop, a wop-bam-boom.

Kimberly Johnson is the author of three collections of poetry, most recently Uncommon Prayer (Persea Books, 2014), as well as of book-length translations of Virgil and Hesiod.  Recipient of fellowships and awards from the Guggenheim Foundation and the NEA, she has recent work in Kenyon Review and ​Harvard Review.