Well, It Has to Be Now, Then

We are not as gods. We’re ghosts,
And we won’t get good at it.

Oh, but bad ghosts. We have hosts
Of those ghouls, and we’re their hosts.

Earth has launched a new front here,
In us, with us, in the way

Life haunts rocks. Our words and counts
Now dance through genes that made them

Things that could be made, or found,
Or spliced, or crunched. Want to find

Out what the next waves of life
Will want from us? Ghosts, that’s what.

Want to know how soon we’ll go?
This clock was born with no hands.