by Scott Volz

Forget the bucket lists:

We’re talking bunker lists—
predictions of The End more regular
than a man who takes his Metamucil.

True, theories thus far have been
as wrong as the weather man,
but I’d say it’s wise to prepare
when zombies are no longer a dark horse.

There are practical things—
in case you’ve got survivor stitched
in your DNA.

          Learn to like canned food and not showering. 
          Start reading science fiction so you know
          of wastelands—the earth cooked like a kebob
          left overnight on the grill. 

If you’ve any hope for a future,
you’ll have to fight. Who knows what
will be left beneath the burning sky.
Mole-people? Mutants? It could be
just you and the environmentalists—
and they won’t be a cheery lot.

          So trade your Xbox for kickboxing 
          and shift acronyms: PBS to NRA. 

But more than anything,
before the badness comes to blow—

          tell the one you love that desire will burn
          after solar flares scorch the earth,
          that the holocaust would be greater    
          if hearts flipped like magnetic poles.

          Say you’ll be Adam to a damned race
          so long as she is Eve, carrying on the sin 
         of Eden when the only birds are crows.
         
          Because she makes you crazier
          than the Jesus freaks trumpeting revelation,
          than the dictators at home and abroad.

Scott Volz graduated with a BFA in Creative Writing from the University of Evansville in 2008. He lives in Evansville, Indiana.