Poetry Month: April 8: Drinks at the Bar at the End of the World

Drinks at the Bar at the End of the World

We are stardust
and a little bit of moonshine,
we people of earth, 2013.
When God created,
(or the Big Bang started)
this earth-ball spinning,
billions of years past,
the gases fizzed and
the elements danced,
and molecules spun out of the jukebox
we call evolution--
from which it was simply a giant step
to life as we might have known it:
as unimpressive one-cells,
as proud owners of complex properties,
as emerging sea creatures
taking their first land-steps,
life as dinosaurs, as  apes,
as drag-knuckled, heavy-browed men:
life as us.

We are stardust, by heaven,
the product of  pre-historic  cataclysm,
exploded god-knows-where
in whatever cosmos we once called home.
We are splashes of stardust
mixed in a cocktail of carbon,
oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen
in specified proportions
that change in response to
where we are and what we do,
a recipe known but to God,
the Supreme Bartender
at the End of the World Bar.