The Worrier, Or Ever Have One of Those Days

In fourteen billion years
The universe will die.
At least that’s what some say.
It makes me want to cry.

Eight billion years from now–
Give a day or two–
The sun will explode
In a great hullabaloo.

Maybe the moon will drop
Into an ocean or sea
Or maybe a volcano
Will roll lava over me.

My stocks have all tanked.
There’s a war in Ukraine.
Inflation’s through the sky.
And Congress is insane.

I’m broker than broke.
My tires have gone flat.
The rent’s coming due.
And I’ve lost my hat.

But I’ve got a cat.
Her name is Fred.
She snuggles on my lap
And sleeps on my bed.

When she crosses the grass
She’ll give the sun a little dance.
Cause she’s the queen of purrs
Zen master par excellence.