Originally Published by the Academy of American Poets<\/em><\/p>\n Do you remember<\/span> I am just now learning<\/span> Say something about our yellow<\/span> I think the world will end<\/span> Do you remember the chicken coop?<\/span> The End of the End Originally Published by the Academy of American Poets Do you remember our beautiful life? The same one you mentioned near the end, subtle as a cat\u2019s yawn? Do you remember Miss Essie crying? Pope John Paul II had died; we were in the living room, and she was crying. I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2391,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1559"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2391"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1559"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1559\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1561,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1559\/revisions\/1561"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/236magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1559"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nour beautiful life? The same<\/span>
\none you mentioned<\/span>
\nnear the end, subtle<\/span>
\nas a cat\u2019s yawn?<\/span>
\nDo you remember<\/span>
\nMiss Essie crying?<\/span>
\nPope John Paul II had died;<\/span>
\nwe were in the living room,<\/span>
\nand she was crying.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nloss, and there\u2019s fresh honey<\/span>
\non the roadside.<\/span>
\nDo you think his world<\/span>
\nis ending? It\u2019s just before<\/span>
\na rain, and he is selling honey<\/span>
\nfrom his truck bed.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nhouse and Charlie<\/span>
\nin the yard\u2014 something about<\/span>
\nour beautiful life.<\/span>
\nSay something about catching gar<\/span>
\nwith cotton balls,<\/span>
\nhow it snares up in their teeth.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nwith hound dogs baying.<\/span>
\nI\u2019m not so sure it ends<\/span>
\nlike this.<\/span>
\nDo you still believe in God?<\/span>
\nSome days I do. Do you<\/span>
\nremember<\/span>
\nour beautiful life?<\/span><\/p>\n
\nThis feels like the end<\/span>
\nof the end.<\/span>
\nWe are barefoot<\/span>
\nin the kitchen. The cutting board<\/span>
\nis always out.<\/span>
\nWe are drunk and need no sleep.<\/span><\/p>\nBrian Flynn is a poet from Louisiana. He is a graduate of Boston University’s MFA in Creative Writing (Poetry, ’23). His poems appear or are forthcoming in Tahoma Literary Review<\/em>, Denver Quarterly<\/em>, Poetry Online<\/em> and on Poets.org.\u00a0<\/span><\/h5>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"