The man on TV says, This is the big one, folks. The man says, Call your mother and say goodbye. To save themselves, thousands of people jump to the bottom of a river and turn into fish. Fish survive devastation. Fish don’t worry about whether they’re loved. What does it mean to “end” anyway? To be a person and then a body. To be a city and then a ruin. Maybe someone should give this world the Heimlich. Maybe it’ll cough up all the good people it swallowed and choked on too soon. I think the birds are in mourning. I think the trees feel sorry for us. Too bad about all that skin covering all those little bones. Too bad about that noise emanating from the heart, untranslatable and strange. How does the song go? Something about feeling fine. I put a note in your pocket that said: CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THERE. You never got there.