Wednesday, November 25, 2020

thankful

Everybody dies— what makes you so special?

The fear of the finality,

the sentence ends full stop.

The dot dot dash of the rampant heart

at long last parted with its purpose,

with the rest of the wreck gone 

derelict, kicking and clawing,

spurting and oozing as

this vessel is abandoned. I guess

it’s all a little overboard, all

messed up and nowhere to go,

embracing the outs when

the ins have all run out. Dying

the answer written on the unsealed

envelope, the question another

Carnac gag, the incurious 

portion once the pleasure plays

out of the nexts and maybes—

birds do it, bees do it, even

educated fleas do it—

we all bite the dust. So what if

you jump the line, take cuts

call it early? Anything to end

the pain, anything to beat the crowds. 

The fear of taking the leap and 

not making it stick the only

slowing left, still thankful that there’s an out. 

at

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