What will you pay to watch the sky fall?
And what new device will they devise
to manage your friends before the show?
Will you splurge on nose bleed seats?

When the singularity arrives
will you find yourself apprehensive
over the established relationship
between your dish and your spoon?

And what will your mirrors tell you,
your mother and I have not already?
Will you listen, or will you believe
mirrors everywhere are built only to flatter?

If they send you to mine the moon
would you stray from your labor
to search for signs of the cow’s passing
as foretold by the fiddler?

Would you pause in your bed time routine,
look up at your home in the eternal night sky
and remember me?
Would you whisper goodnight?