I.
I see the future play out in 4K
surround sound in a glass stone
I found on the banks
of the Buffalo River
wars & rumors of wars,
earthquakes in diverse places
men’s hearts failing them
fires crackling across the continents
& boiling the oceans
fish frying in their living rooms
surrounded on all sides by so much
water with nowhere to go
A23a, a drifting vanguard
a voice crying in the wilderness,
prepares the way for a silent end
to all we know
God staring down with tears
streaming down His face
because His children can’t keep
the house from burning down
& tumbling into a heap of rubble
His fingers hovering over
the reset button
the delete button
& the big red button
He doesn’t want
to touch any of them
especially the big red button
if He can help it, but His hands
are tied. A dying world
looks so calm & peaceful
from way up high
it would be a damn shame
if it had to end like this.
II.
My son climbs
on my back while
I’m perched on
the edge of this
bone-dry riverbed
curious to see
what I see
his eyes shimmer
marveling
with a yearning.
He closes his eyes
and smiles up
at the sky
tiny teeth catching
the sun in its
westward path
I wonder
if he ever
questions
if the world
he inhabits
will still be here
when he opens
his eyes.
Jace Einfeldt is a writer from Southern Utah. He is the fiction editor at the Arkansas International. His recent work appears or is forthcoming in Hobart After Dark, BULL, X-R-A-Y, the Glacier, and Aethlon, among others.
