How It Gets to the Cave
Robert Lopez

Someone will have to testify
Leave an historical record to be found
In a cave somewhere
Underneath rubble and sediment

Let those who find it point fingers
And mock
Like they can do better

When it starts to roll in
I snag a bolt of lightning
The smoke in its wake
I draw with my fingers
Then the trees with their leaves on inside out

People streaming inland
Moving in herds

The moon to blood and the horsemen too

It will be a privilege to live through this

A soft rain makes music
I like to hear it when I sleep