jupiter forecast 

someone i love asks how i will feed myself
without a pig. i tell them i am skilled 
at sacrifice. once, i lived out of the carcass
of a whale. i crawled to the bottom of the ocean
each night with only a dinner plate
& a fork. ate canned beans & dreamed 
a television in my head. no one can know
the depths of our private loneliness. here is where
i keep my planet. it is rock candy & ready.
the truth is there is some uncertainty 
to living at the end of the world. but hasn't everyone
always lived at the end of the world?
the coming precipice might not be a destination
but what it means to crawl 
from bed & see the sun. i go to the crows
for advice since they know more 
than most. they advise me to not live extravagantly.
i admit, "but that is my gender." they laugh
& say, "then steal whatever you can 
from the factory. trinkets & guns & glitter."
"i do not want guns," i tell them but they fly
away & do not tell me any more. i till the earth.
i plant my teeth. move on to fingers. have you
ever tried planting without hands? 
it is not as terrible as it might seem. 
waiting in the fresh earth & trying to not pray.
asking whatever beings sit beneath the surface,
"can you give me something delicious?"