Doomsday Clock January 2022...

the most recent tabulation
signaled one hundred seconds to midnight

A couple years ago
similarly titled poem I did write,

yet looms as harbinger unless
Homo sapiens can unite
one non Yiddish speaking
Ongematert wishing ye
fare thee well tonight
before betokening apocalyptic sight

'course one must go about
her/his business - right?

Rhetorical question - yet
impossible mission quite

challenging, where one
brother grimm ponders plight

Cosmofunnel favorite fan
Katina Borgersen "poof"
our acquaintanceship dissolved
(think - snapped fingers) outright

regardless, whether...
perchance we ever
cross paths long daze

journey into night
met under virtual reality moonlight

ah... the mere awareness
of her existence

metaphorically found modest, mercurial
mellow male within limelight

oy vey admittedly one
rusty Ongepatshket knight

fumbling in the dark with
his unreliable sputtering jacklight

hooping aforesaid gal whose eyes alight

upon mine genuine words doth newt
coon sitter me laughable, nor impolite,

yet accept hard reality to highlight
and/or _ underscore delight

full dame online - each of us,
an infinitesimal jot of granulite

within vast cosmos given finite

minuscule time to excite

our senses trending utmost delight

during brief unique
deoxynucleic chromosomal copyright

til death do us part,
whether natural demise
or... huge mushroom
clouds radioactive blight
unimaginable nightmarish scenario

impossible mission to close third eye blind

webbed global haunting spectacle

mortal creatures linkedin to ill fate

including yours truly,

a generic, garden variety

hermetically sealed cell bit anchorite.

Uneasiness far greater
to confront atomic augury
than pernicious penury
which ceases within eyeblink

far more serious than perjury

nonetheless afflicting me
with psychological injury.

Personal finances pitted
me deep in hock
into red room zone,
shining thru the mist

story, yes I experience
quite a shell shock,

to absorb inconvenient truth

great swaths of Gaia

analogous to dead zone,

nevertheless, now finds yours
truly poorest, oldest, and nerdiest
curmudgeon goofy "kid"
on the chopping block
within Lake Wobegon
hard space and third rock

from sun as inevitable doom
inches closer as each second elapses

insync with inaudible tick tock.