Ever since Parkland,
My parents have been waking up early
To see me before I catch the bus.
This is love in the apocalypse.

A couple months ago,
We didn’t know it was a drill.
I exchanged fearful glances with people I’ve never liked.
This is solidarity in the apocalypse.

The news tells us
Earth has ten years to live.
I say to Mom, “There go your grandkids.”
This is laughter in the apocalypse.

I always wondered how the people in the disaster movies could think they stood a chance.
But I’ve seen us rise to the occasion as the tides rise to our shores.

And if our city ever drowns,
Covered in gallons of our mistakes,
We will learn to swim.
This is surviving the apocalypse.