The Last Party by Dorothy Derifield

When we finally gave up the bullshit and delusions
and accepted that she was dying, we decided
to have a party to try to understand the nature
of the universe. Einstein declined due to death,
“But that’s a poor excuse,” wrote Marie Curie
with blackened fingers, saying she would come.
And who better to talk about the deadly effects
of beauty? So we included the women who licked
radium from their brushes making watch dials.

Where are the snows of yesteryear indeed?
They have discovered boycott and saturation
bombing. The winds are petulant and overfed;
we were afraid to invite them, more afraid not to.
Kali stuck out her tongue at us, of course,
“I told you so.” And Baal said, “Thank you for all
the gold,” and made a raspberry with his sucky
little mouth. “How many men and maidens
will dive to the fire for me today?”

The astronomers of the Hubble Telescope
promised to bring images of planets in the Goldilocks
zone to show the sad bears and disgruntled cockatoos.
We drank champagne from our vineyards in Siberia
And toasted the cleverness of ebola and the zika virus.
Helios said he will continue to rise and set no matter
who goes home with whom so Henry Ford made
a threesome with Edison and Edward Teller
while the bodhisattvas and their entourage left quietly.


Date: 2019

By: Dorothy Derifield (19??- )

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