An Apocalyptic Wow

sat in a bathtub of lukewarm water 

with you and confessed

i am afraid 
to ever have a baby

in a hospital earlier 

i held 
your chin 

asked you 

i don’t know how 

to control 

impulse
i know 

the world is ending 

always ending 

just like how we are 
like now 

one time you told me 

isn’t it funny that each breath we breathe is one less we have 

our numbered days settled in the dust 

having been kicked 
up by your passing thought 

resting gently on my toes 

funny like when

you said 
smile for me 

and came immediately 

so yes 

the world is always ending although especially right now still i am in my twenties still i want a baby 

still i want one day

to sit in the candlelight gently rocking some sweet thing watching the world burn wondering if i should spare 

us the long, drawn out tragedy 

take a walk to the creek out back and never come back or can we stay? 

sitting 
nodding off 

in the nuclear glow of sunstroke and babymaking and endtimes

Mariah Devcic

Mariah Devcic is a poet from Terrace, BC, located on Tsimshian territory. She holds a BFA from the University of British Columbia, and was the recipient of the 2016 Lake Winnipeg Writers’ Group Write on the Lake Poetry Prize. She once drove across an international border wearing only a sleeping bag.

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[untitled; or, our girl as futurist engineer] & [interlude involving improper physics]