La fin du monde, c’est moi

They told me the end of the world was coming,
that it’d be here any day now.
If I asked, ChatGPT could tell me –
trajectory, telemetry, and all.

Which was good, because otherwise
I wouldn’t know where to look.

The servers vaporized a small lake in Utah,
and as the steam rose to the face of heaven,
my prayers were answered.

Obediently I pointed my telescope into the sky,
but try as I might I couldn’t find
so much as a wink or shiver in the stars
to suggest a million onrushing tonnes of exotic space rock.

So I binned the thing, and went upstairs
to brush my teeth.
As I met my eyes in the mirror, the realization
hit me like a summer hailstone.

What do you even say,
when you meet the end of the world.

“Goodnight”?

Read what Gemini 2.5 Pro thought of my poem here.