Bright & Incandescent End of a New Year

If the world were to open its mouth,
would all the rivers flow out-
beneath the rocky crevice
where the bright spirits used to dwell,

would we sink like rocks
into its crushing abyss,
its words a mellow speech
stewing bubbles in the earth,

and over the years,
would it come to pass-
boats large enough to hold
the ocean,

watching it heat up to
blistering bounds and then
cool off between shiny metal
sprockets, from a distance,

where we'd savor the
sizzling quiet moments,
would it be simple enough-
to have hands placed

on the foreheads of the weary
to condone empty handed promises
betwixt a warm world that exemplifies
the temperate, flat state

of an almost empty glass of lager,
would we then bubble helplessly
up towards the surface,
a greenery through weak damp facets,

to spread about
one more clear breath of air,
spit back out the dragon's mouth
into a dazzling new year,

seething beneath the blue &
an elevator with no buttons,
shifting under the weight of
burdened human hands.