Post Apocalyptic Poet

I thought I'd get ahead of the game.

My house is decorated in post 

apocalyptic decor: disorganized, dirty,

lots of junk around, as if a bomb went off.

I want to be ready

when the earthquake hits,

when the insane blow everything to atoms,

when the storms come,

when we run out of food.

I'm surfing the waves of future ruin.

I'm grooming myself for disaster,

to be the last clown left standing,

wondering who'll be left laughing..