Rain

Funeral for the Sun

by Gabe Joselow

If the sun were not to return, I would surely cry

And then I'd stop my crying and wish that I could die

And then I'd stop my pitying and go and buy a gun

And point it at the big black hole that used to be the sun.

"Hey sun, fuck you" I'll scream, and wait for no reaction

Before I squeeze both triggers on my shotgun, double action.

And hopefuly in some wormhole the shotgun shot will sink

Reemerging in some other place before I can even blink.

And perhaps that other place will be our future dark and cold

The sun will see me sitting there so pale and very old

The shotgun shots will strike me, and blow apart my brain

And the sun will cry for me this time, before returning once again.