Apocalypse Whenever

Note: This poem is based on Shakespeare's sonnet #3, which is the first section of this submission.

Sonnet #3

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.

The sun will shine on the dinosaur,
And again break into birds;
There’ll be one more vestal devil,
and one more literary whore.
As the furry helots of the Jurassic,
Became masters of the renaissance;
So will the future fish of the Pacific,
Nibble on the Gates of our picket fence.
So was my Mom Cleopatra and Caesar,
Also Caeserion under the knife;
So was she the brave new bard,
And in hospital bed gave death to life.
So was I Orpheus at the world’s end,
But never a father or a fertile pen.