the works of America’s greatest living poemetrist, alive or otherwise.
my world, my life
are never good enough.
i understand
the evolutionary forces
behind the urge….
it’s not like
viruses & cancers
and all the rest
are trying to
kill you….
i can mourn them,
the 100,00 dead.
John Prine & Annie Glenn
the many dead
unknown to me….
should is a
particularly cruel word.
must & will
remove choice
by force….
my super-powers
are beyond belief.
BELIEVE IT!
i am not one,
but two, count ‘em, two!
how to commit suicide
without dying?
the way an official
can resign their position
in protest….
i wake each morning
to the press
of my entire life
on my mind,
my first thought….
i love that part
of human nature
where nothing
is good enough.
score one for the Buddha!
the extinction of
the human race
via plague:
it’s very much
a possibility.
honesty is my option
of last resort.
anything but that,
and i mean anything…
that’s what i need!
a serum,
like in a bad sf movie
where the mad scientist
never needs to sleep again….
there’s no reason
i have to do this.
there’s no reason
i have to do anything.
the beauty of choice.
it’s never going to be perfect.
win the powerball & have millions,
and i’ll still burn the toast,
stub my toe,
say something stupid out loud….
trying to take seriously
that everything i learned
to take seriously
was wrong.
the only serious thing….
there are troubling signs
that the things
i have long depended on
for the soft reassurance
that my life….
