"My barn having burnt down, I could now see the moon"
You only get one go round.
No take 3 steps back cards.
No reset button
No buy one, get one free.
No spin again.
No time machine, no encores
Not even a U turn.
So you got 2 choices.
or
2. flash your fleshy bottom at the fair master constantly turning the crank and making things move forward, round ‘n round.
You choose.
You’re never gonna win
not even if you practice
all day, every day,
not even if you get
that nose job or
invent a better mouse trap,
not even if you win the lottery or
hit the triactor, 100 to 1.
It’s just not gonna happen.
Entropy has you between her legs
and she’s holding your head down
in her dirty hands.
There’s a loose nut in
every assembly line,
there’s a self destruct button
blinking on and off
in each of our hearts.
Best to not swim upstream.
Learn to love the toast on the floor
jam side down
cuz
your ship always goes
back out again
and you’re never gonna win
cuz
there ain’t no Oz Dorthy.
Go ask Cesar.
Go ask Marilyn.
Tell it to the moon
and then sit back and wait
for the next go around.
She asked me about
my readership
and I replied,
“A good dozen in a good week.”
She looked a little taken aback
and I could see her
saying to herself,
“How we gonna sell that?”
The deal fell through
and I tucked my dream
of being an internet millionaire
under the pillow
in the spare bedroom
where I sleep when
I know I’ll wake up
with a really big hangover.
I’m not a numbers guy.
There is a moment in a man’s life
when he realizes deep down in his gut
his groin, his gait
he realizes
he’ll never experience much
that life has to offer.
TV, news, radio, magazines, books, atlases, photos
airplanes, buses, the brain, our imagination
can’t take us there or anywhere
near the sum of experience.
There’s a time in your life
when sadness soaks all and
awareness becomes a chore given
there’s so much you’ll never have or know
in this big candy story.
And the only recourse once you do feel
once you do know this,
the only action, the only response
is to give up
sit down in your garden, enjoy the day’s sun
’cause you ain’t going anywhere important
in this short time you’ve got.
Enjoy your slice and
give up the guilt of not owning
the whole damn chair of stores.
Millions die from it
every day.
In bed, on the street
in a car, on their feet
while dancing
while smiling
while asleep …..
Millions die from it
every day.
On the beach, in the water
eating a peach, having a daughter
in tuxedos
in the nude
in style
in or out of the mood …..
Millions die from it
every day.
In apartment blocks
to the sound of clock tick tocks
in foreign exotic lands
even when wearing wedding bands
when having a late lunch
when drunk on punch
when mellow
when full of ire
on their birthdays
setting themselves on fire ….
Millions die from it
every day.
Residents, dog catchers
eye catchers, fetchers too.
The boy next door
one day even you.
Millions die from it
every day.
That’s life.
One must wonder
at this world of
beer cans, ashtrays and “just because”,
wonder at the
movement of it all,
how pages yellow and lovers spent
crawl away to their corner of the bed,
how the flowers in the vase
dry and disappear, deny the day,
wonder at the way
it all slides down,
wonder and listen for
the sound that can’t be found
the sound that accompanies our
great, so gentle, imperceptible fall,
listen for the orchestra’s honest organizing whistle
listen for the violin’s whine and the oboe’s sad skip
the swish of the conductor’s baton
listen for this one step, two step, the beat
we all, groping for each other
dance to complete
to greet and applause beyond our laws
our false creations, our fabulous flaws.
One must wonder
at this world of
so much music nobody hears.
How much better we might dance
if we did.
Like a cook smelling, taking off the lid.
One must wonder where
the life lived is hid.
It doesn’t matter if
the air con is kaput
the car got scratched
or the wine ain’t chilled.
It doesn’t matter.
Don’t matter if
the dog went on the carpet
or the DOW’s up or down.
Don’t matter if
there’s an earthquake
or you won the Super 7.
It doesn’t matter.
No worries about
missing that 9am meeting
drinking too much
drinking too little
no mayo in the fridge
a bad back
a better world.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter if
the bus is late or
Sunnis are killing Shias
Shias are killing Sunnis
Israelis exterminating Gazans
or
Justin Bieber is doing time.
Don’t matter if
you are this or aren’t that
don’t matter
if the dog got your cat
or the cat got your tongue.
It doesn’t matter
if your mother-in-law
hates your guts
or the plane’s delayed.
Don’t matter if
your bank balance is $.1.15
or the remote is broke.
Doesn’t matter if
you don’t finish this poem
or even do.
It doesn’t matter.
Why?
It doesn’t matter.