Mossland

Geological time is slow

give you an idea:

South America and Africa used to be

right next to each other;

they've been moving apart

at a couple of inches a year

(maybe)

So do the math

never mind you don't need to

And so it was, he thought,

analogous to these many bottles

and jars and plates

that sat upon his counter

now covered in mossy mold

and moldy moss

Not quite geological time

but still took a while

Now shall we zoom in

and find there among the verdant landscape

tiny creatures

little people

They looked over the hills of green moss

to the dirty wall in the distance

and said, this is right

this is us

During the day it was light,

at night it was dark,

and sometimes the day was semi light,

hazy and dim

This of course was because

the kitchen light was sometimes off

during the day,

and what they saw was only the real sun

through a curtain far away

on the other side of the apartment,

though they of course could not know this,

though some suspected it

(very few)

and were thus deemed lunatics

and a danger to society

and exterminated of course

Anyway, day or night there remained

plenty besides to worry about

though few worries came true

and those not very often

But sometimes

big shaky things with many legs and eyes

These were the spidros,

and when they came it wasn't good

Occasionally there were mices,

but they were big and lumbering,

much too cute and oblivious

to be a danger

(their shits were huge

and easily avoidable)

God looked down on them

(very seldom)

with its huge face

and frowned

That's all

The face didn't do anything else

and didn't seem to care much

They were fine

Until one day

they heard god say,

fuck this,

and not knowing what it meant,

they soon found out

The beautiful green mountains,

even their plastic foundations,

were summarily scooped,

upheaved

and deposited

into black abyss

much like Atlantis,

had it been so mossy

or had there existed

a garbage bag so large

so long ago

Of course the 'moss folk'

or 'people of the moss'

went with it,

every last one,

down into plastic hell,

dark and confusing,

and said, guess we're fucked

There would, in time, arise

new mountains,

rivers of coffee

and sauces,

and new people to enjoy them,

though they, of course,

would never know

of those who'd come before;

they would assume they were

the first and last