When the Dust Finally Settles

one day, paleontologists will uncover our dead bodies
gape at our minute brainpans, our
easily broken skeletal construction
speculate on our skillful tool-making capacity
generate ridiculous mythologies
concerning our lost and forgotten civilization.

they’ll fondle our alien carcasses with
suction-cupped tentacles, or claw-tipped footpads
caress the interior recesses of our skulls with feathery antennae
give pretentious and erudite lectures on how we once
fluttered across the skies, flopped along the sand,
or dwelled deep underground.


Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press),  In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I'm in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).