Got Them Ol’ Metaphysical Summer Solecist Oblivion Blues Again

Time hath, me Lord, a wallet at his back

Wherein he puts alms for oblivion.

Ulysses to Achilles, Troilus and Cressida, Shakespeare

They say the sun’s lease will lapse one day,
after we ourselves have been evicted
and lost our senses.

Extinctions come and go,
like summer solecists,
year by year.

So no humans will be around to fret
about the extinction of their
solar system’s center,

no zillionaires boarding lonely spaceships
to escape the inescapable – oblivion’s
dreamless kingdom,

the realm of non-existence, where once
before we were were-not but
did not care to know.