"If you do love me
as I wish you to, then will
you choose to follow me down?"
"Baby, your question’s
built upon a false premise;
so I ain’t goin’ nowhere."
"If you do love me
as I wish you to, then will
you choose to follow me down?"
"Baby, your question’s
built upon a false premise;
so I ain’t goin’ nowhere."
We talked about her legacy,
which got to be a bummer
when you considered that legacies
are usually built on endings.
“You’ll live for a long long time,” I began to say,
but she shook her head before I invested too far into the lie.
“This is where you’ll put the notice up,” she said,
“and this is where I keep my passwords.”
I nodded, taking notes, focusing on the job at hand.
“We’re making good time,” she added, as she closed up the laptop. “Lunch?”
“Mm-hmph.”
“You ever think about what’s next?” I asked,
munching on frozen fruit.
“I’m too busy making music
– that you’re going to sell afterwards.”
“Of course.”
“There’s too much to concern myself with now,” she replied,
“I’ve got more than enough time to think about what’s next, next.”
I didn’t have much to say.
I’m always thinking about what’s next.
It occupies a lot of my time.
Probably too much.
Of course you didn’t say goodbye to me in life.
You had no idea I was gone.
But now, afterward,
take a moment to reflect
and focus:
final thoughts?
Say them now.
Three missing fingers?
Pessimistic outlook indeed! Seven extant hand-appendages:
optimism at-work!
Sundown means a lot of things.
For now, it means the day’s coming to an end
and the dark is coming
and though there are golden hues
to introduce this,
we are all entering a blind time.
Tools will help us
a little
but the black is coming.
Night approaches soon.
We will survive it,
most of us.
We will endure this period.
It is short,
and the dawn always comes,
if not always bright.
But we know the dark will return
and sometimes,
it lengthens.
It would be a harder world
if all the rubber had already been extracted from the planet
and there was no longer anything we could make
to bounce off of.
That is why we must do everything in our power
to take everything off of this globe
that we can rubberize
so we can protect ourselves
from the harder edges in life.
Just save ourselves from danger with cushions
by excavating everything.
Fellow exploiters: get to work!
We’ve talked about this before: if you had telepathy,
you’d know my apologies are sincere
and our conversations
would be severely truncated,
but I don’t think I’d like to propose that policy any further,
because if you had telepathy,
you’d know where I was going,
know what your birthday present was,
know when you were looking fat
know where your surprise party was going to be
and know when I was cheating on you.
You might also know that I said that, honey,
so I’m going to have to telepathically induce you
into forgetting that I ever said that now.
It just makes everything so much easier
since I’ve gained telepathy,
after all…
One door slams shut,
breaking the glass in its windowpane,
leaving room for someone to break in,
killing the former tenant,
allowing a brand new family to move in!
Every beginning ends a different story
and vice versa,
if you choose to think of it that way,
so your work is never really done.
I was recently asked how to make your last million dollars.
I immediately answered: invest two million
in your poetry chapbook.
Nobody followed up on my response,
so I assumed they understood it perfectly.
Would anybody like to go out to shop for denim or toys?
Later today, we shall meet.
I cannot tell you how long I have waited.
Of course, you know when we set the appointment,
but you may not know
when I first wished to invite you
to this lunch.
It was well before this restaurant opened.
I can’t tell you why my courage swelled
only now
just that I have found myself prepared
and properly funded
to offer you this meal
at these prices.
I only hope I’m worthy
to be here with you
to share them.