as finales -
memoirs composed
solely of farewell
each meeting
a prelude to an ending
every hello
the advance warning
of goodbye.
If I could craft a life
based on what could be,
not what is,
I'd take away the finish line
tangle the strings
until no one could separate
or leave
interlaced
twisted together
the way life and lives
should be.
A locking puzzle
with no solution
the freedom pieces
welded together at first meeting.
I'd collect all the helicopters
from one maple tree
and let them grow up together
so close
branches entwine
and trunks crush together
twisting upwards as one unit
to a brilliant sun
while below the earth
their roots hold hands.
If I could rewrite the laws
of this cosmos
I'd let the good memories
never die
and keep the bad ones
from taking root
I'd cross out all the
disappointing moments
cancel reality checks
and throw out the towel
so no one could throw it in.
I'd make more time
for the seconds that count
and decrease the wait
between one moment
and the next.
There would be overtime compensation
for waiting on someone good.
No budget for your happiness,
or his
or hers
or theirs -
and especially not ours.
Everything's in,
anything goes -
the sort of deal
shop-aholics orgasm over.
But with life
not clothing
and unnecessary furniture.
No comments:
Post a Comment