We feel them walking over us in their intolerable shoes,
knocking down our stone doors. And what
would they have us do—come outside?
We will not afternoon among the pigeons,
who loiter like blanched old men in a sauna,
moaning "arrgargahhh" but meaning to say
"shut the door" but meaning "let this day
end me." [
But this is just one tunnel through the story,
and it is not the one that leads to some outside
that is sweet and green. What if we had known
we were in the last five years of our lives?
What a relief! To look around and say
how fine it is, to awaken in the cracked sun,
to knock back a berry into our mouths
like a large and living pill! To have two
and a half years to eat before our time is reset
into a new measure of halfness. And it goes.
For decades we split ourselves across the longing
of an asymptote, until one day we reach down to wipe
and we're putting our hand
through a ghost.
And then it becomes intolerable. Like fruit salad —
a grape disguised in the juices of a cantaloupe.
We leave behind a dotted line, and all these people!
They follow it like a map to heaven,
when all we meant was "cut here."
Death & Loss
Joy & Praise
conversation between two or more people as a feature of a book, play, or movie
A word that, when spoken aloud, has a sound that is associated with the thing or action being named.
a question asked for effect, not necessarily to be answered
a comparison between two unlike things using the words “like” or “as”