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$15,000 in debt
15,000 people
15,000 poems

burn the beds

June 28th, 2013 § 0 comments

Poem #166 for Joanne Ruocco

 

The time has come
blastoff like a sprinter on a kilo of blow
go go go go go go
fuck the consequences
con
sequences
why would the human entity revere such a horrid word

my world keeps on turning
despite my foibles
despite the fuck-ups
despite the wrong turns and wrong choices
the vinyl spins
the music plays
the breathing continues

and now they have arrived
the muses I desired
having done it once again;
the time has come
as it has always wanted
as it has always been
there
just waiting for me to catch up to it?
Or waiting for me to see it?

can’t stop can’t stop can’t think of any reason
to live
which is the perfect secret about life

to live without reason or purpose
to go everyday simply to exist
simply to breathe that air
just be alive in this at this moment
to look around
gawk in wonderment at the seamless harmony
how it all works
how it all just keeps going and staying in place and
getting all convoluted and mesmerizing

The secret of life is to not have any reason to live
so that we might get the most out of life
so that you may appreciate each miniscule detail
and to be alive, truly alive, by choice!

af

(written on computer)

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