Anticipating the End of Never (a poem)

When time runs out of incandescent levers
and space-time is rolled up with gravity chords
axons and dendrites won’t resemble mashed gourds
sleeping or dreaming to never will wake
from the cold swill of motors and rhyme-stuffed earthquakes

Nothing passed forever when eternity’s now
the future could resemble broken barges and scows
tied to dark wharves with things of the past
neither shaken or stirred when the last die is cast

With incompleteness theorems a meta-world of deep fakes
soaks up minds like business sponges of time
reflecting in prisms the thoughts it can take

Political levers eventually wind down
and finally stop when the Lord comes to town.