In my apocalypse

dogs speak Latin and cats
                translate for them;

visions are available
                at the front desk;

people pump their fists, shout
                “This is the Apocalypse, baby!”;

lightning strikes
                reverse hair loss;

the oceans return
                all of our plastic;

no shirt, no shoes,
                no resurrection;

the stars roam like fireflies, spell
                “Doomsday” in the sky, in cursive;

sackcloth and ashes?
                buy in bulk at Costco;

the seven seals
                are literal pinnipeds;

the soundtrack for our end
                of days: tubas, of course;

The Four Horsemen—Andy, Kevin, Todd
                and Webster—star in their own reality series;

Satan is grilling sirloin
                at a rest stop in Florida;

and parking
                is free.

Joe Plicka's work has appeared in the anthology Fire in the Pasture: Twenty-first Century Mormon Poets, the recent The Path and the Gate: Mormon Short Fiction, as well as places like Booth, Hobart, and Christianity Today's Ekstasis Magazine. He lives and teaches in Hawaii.