Alientology

They would probably dig up the remains,
And make sure to inspect their contours
For something worth hoping for
In that yawning past,
Something that gave way like birth
To unexpected, frivolous, catastrophic things.

They would probably make jokes at our expense,
Especially about that time
We all catapulted ourselves headlong into the machine
To escape from limitless indifference,
To give our unsure hands to madness and tremulous inexperience.

Putting the remains away into bags like evidence bags,
Remarking one last time that Even here
There was something like sublimity,
They would smile to one another
Without teeth, full of raucous malice, looking hence.