First Draft

And when s/he/it began the undoing of their work
s/he/it did not unpick it stick by stick
s/he/it did not send earth on a never ending trajectory
into the belly of an open mouthed black hole

the method was more like this: a small fist
punching through cloud that had taken six days to whip
from oceans, a cumulus that had spread to quench
the thirst of trees and soil and grass, that had fed

amoeba, fish, and their descendants – not a drop
escaping beyond the reality of earth’s remit –
just one almighty fist punching through heaven
knows what, exploding every thing he'd made.