Conclusions (2012)
I’m a writer,
I guess, and I guess
I like conclusions. But
there’s nothing conclusive
about things on Earth,
other than death,
I guess. Living
happily
ever after
dodges
certain facts
that must be faced
against our fears. Even
tears won’t conclude
the melancholic
clogging
of valves and stems,
our daily intake
of breath, chased
with teacups of grief.
How to go forth
neck-deep in muck
when it smells so
intoxicating, inviting
us to stay here
and play?
