lifeline

I’m sorry. I saw the drowning
look in your eyes – the one
I know so well from
the inside out, the one that says
everyone thinks everything
is fine but it’s not okay, I’m
not okay
– and didn’t throw
you a lifeline. I know
how it feels to be the only one
in the room who’s holding
on to a grudge because it’s
been with you so long it feels
like a part of you, so that to
let it go would mean losing
something of your identity,
even though everyone else thinks
you’re punishing the person
for old dead deeds and why
can’t you just get over it
already. you can’t. you’re
not ready. you might not
ever be ready. and he doesn’t
deserve your forgiveness.

you warm yourself
by the fire of your hatred.
I know.

endless entropy

things are getting
demonstrably worse.
science fiction is
becoming fact,
and science facts
aren’t welcome in
this country anymore.

if you bury your head
in the sand, you’ll be
unpleasantly surprised
when the sand heats up.
like the frog
in the slowly boiling
water, most of you
don’t feel too bad
just yet. except
all the people yelling
because we know
how bad it’s already
becoming. for us
each day is worse
than the last. how
are we going to survive
the next four years?

if he had his way,
we wouldn’t. just
when you think
it can’t possibly
go any further
downhill, he digs
a new tunnel
to hell.

so laugh it up, make
all the jokes
while you still can.
soon enough they’ll
get you sent
to the gulag.

paradox

go ahead, shoot a nuclear silver arrow
at the sun. then shoot a bullet
at an appletini in a highball glass
resting on my head. if your stupid
theory is correct, both
the sun and I are equally
safe from your weapons,
no matter how good or bad
your aim. except for that pesky detail
of how a dude named William
disproved that before
I was even born.

I never knew you, X,
but clearly this world
was never meant
for one as beautiful
as you.

the consolation of philosophy

really, Boethius? just how much
consolation was philosophy
when you were waiting to be
executed? did it help?
did it stop you from
dying, or just make you feel
more philosophical
about your inevitable death?
it waits for us all, but for you
I imagine it was a bit more
urgent.

if you figured out any secrets
about how to be okay
with the fact that I’m dying,
please let me know. send me
a dream, or something. or I
could just read your book.