Andromeda Is Coming for Earth

Or at least for our solar system
At least for our spiral galaxy

We cry as microbes in mud might cry
Over faint threats to their mud’s mountain

Which is to say we don’t cry at all
For death in five billion years or so

Why would we? But it’s weird what we choose
Of all that we won’t experience

To worry in imagination
Or to note and then wholly ignore

Jesus is not coming back for you
But every light breaks some day for sure