I want to die eating
electrons, broadcasting
them to local towers.

Fifty-thousand watts
living in my room. Goggles
and abraded bones,

I want to be found
after the next common
era by whomever’s still

around. The universe
won’t contract
to put me on display.

I want to be a glutton,
eating light and moss-
green clouds. Raze

what you will. The earth’s
finally quickening, bathed
in a shrinking spectrum.

I am ravenous, alive
only because I have
learned to need to want.