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an ode to the anti-apocalyptophobiacs of the world

andrew delapruch Avatar    Block poet from commenting on your poetry

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an ode to the anti-apocalyptophobiacs of the world

after all the idiots who followed Camping
found themselves up shit’s crick
after May of 2011 &
after all the morons hoping & “praying”
that they would get a “get out of life free” card
with the ending of the Mayan calendar 
just a little more than a week ago,
discussion has already begun to loom,
spewing forth like the foulest vomit
(outdoing even lil’ Linda Blair’s projectile in 
“The Exorcist”)
from the mouths of these
apocalyptophobiacs,
who cannot go to sleep at night,
unless they are counting repeating images of
Nostradamus,
hopping over the farmyard fence
with the rest of the
sheep.

yes fans, 
the batshit****ingnuts of the world
have begun to spin their minds like a top,
panicking about “solar flares in 2013,”
“robots taking over the world in 2030,”
“Prof. Cunningham’s time capsule 
predicting biological weapons eliminating
us all in 2016” & of course, our favorite
fictional character with his flowing blond hair,
blue eyes & ability to walk on water,
he’s supposed to be returning sometime to
“fight satan,” um, just as he has been
supposed to for, um,
quite some time…
but those avid readers of Jeane Dixon
will be waiting for 2020,
when “satan” & “jesus” fight for the big
heavyweight title…um,
but supposedly he has a window of 17 years
to arrive in the ring,
so, this writer certainly hopes that “satan”
brings a book or an ipod or some jax or 
something, cause’ shit,
he’s got a while.

and then there’s the jewish end-seekers who
abide by the talmud’s 6000 year lifespan of the world…
and then there’s the numerology numbskulls 
who are counting up how many times “allah” shows up
in the qur’an &
on &
on &
on & 
on,
until these people are 
scratching out their eyes
because they can’t stop twitching in fear
of
something happening at
some time, some place in the 
future,
when they are 
ALL DEAD---

DEAD
DEAD
DEAD---
just like the rest of us,
so,
this is an ode,
a salute to those who 
are sick to ****ing death of
these people who will not embrace the
fact that their lives will not end in any grandiose,
metaphysically charged,
special, or unique kind of way---

hoorah.

  



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