We all knew this was coming to this
problem is this this is different
from this this
that for each of us trying to describe this this
or any other this that you might want to know even on just a casual basis.
This was that and this will be this even when this is that.
This is everything.
His was this’s last word and it’s next
this gets around
this was just here and just here
this is wherever you call this that
and that is everything else that is not this
just like this is the fourteenth line but if we’d hiccupped together we’d be somewhere further along the
a lot can get coughed up in a hiccup
if this chapter was a physical or verbal response to life it would be a burp:
loud, blunt and saying nothing else
beyond the onomatopoeia
and he knew you were an assassin before you kissed him on the cheek
and said welcome to this story
so, who’s sorry now?
Sounds like someone different from whom we initially buried
does that mean we’ll eventually blame something or someone new next?
I’m an optimist
so I hope so.
My mind by this time Friday night can go anywhere
and here we are
even if you’re not reading this I imagine you are
and you know who you are
just like I know who you are and here we are
where do you want to go from here?
obviously cause here
is where we choose to be
or we wouldn’t be here
oh, sure, we can call ourselves hostages
to falling to gravity
till we stand up for ourselves
and put our dukes up
our hands to the piano’s keyboard till eventually the piano falls on our heads
at least we tried
and at most
and does this make us eyes wide open explorers or blind?
Or somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean
and Christopher Columbus is standing on deck of the Santa Maria looking up at the stars
and trusts they will lead him to India
till bumping into the Bahamas wrote the character who called himself
though now he wonders if he is Bahamas.
But at least he didn’t try
he didn’t feel the need to whip out a map to define his feet
and he knew just like the stars are not above him his feet are not below him.
This sunset lets Death sneak out under these last strains of light
this dying star in all her glory
exposed in all her pink parts
as her pink purple curtain clouds draw to close
their shades in both vanity and modesty
only to fade to black
while every dusk is one minute earlier
and every day is one day later
until night falls asleep
like visiting Samoa for a day
and you leave one day before you arrived
cause stars got sleep in their eyes
and this international date line
blurs today from yesterday
so you can die today
and appear in yesterday’s obituary.
The lunatic on the subway
is less crazy when you know the song he’s singing
and though you know it’s nuts to sing so loudly on public transit
you know the lyrics
to the song
that the lunatic isn’t singing too badly
so you pretend you’re not listening
but in your head you’re singing along.
We all know more than we’re supposed to know
she shoulda said no
Adam was a hapless victim
falling for that drop that slid down Eve’s delicious looking fruit
and thus begat sexism
and supermarkets of religions
to produce produce
and you can find the kosher on aisle two
and the halal on aisle three.
If it wasn’t for the bathroom mirror
he would never know how old he was
and the back pain
sure you can slide into home at forty like you could at twenty
but one day later
will remind you of the twenty years that have passed
and how you were out at the plate anyway
and you can lose track of time but time doesn’t lose track of you
and you score less
and you lose more
and your only hope in winning
is scoring life on who loses more wins
cause you gotta live long enough to lose this much
so, victory for you, old man.