08-28-2024, 08:28 AM
It’s All Tunnel
When there are no more surprises,
other than seeing a friend or loved one’s face
contort into an expression you’ve never seen them do before—
possibly after they’ve done a big sneeze
or started to have a stroke—
then maybe it’s time to kill yourself.
But of course, you won’t kill yourself,
you’ve got a job to do and
you’ve got poems to write about
your tedious life and
your tedious observations about it.
You’ve got a job to do.
Don’t kill yourself.
Keep laying track for the tunnel.
It must be going somewhere.
It must be heading to someone,
some brainless someone,
who’s going to say
“I love you. I love what you do.”
When there are no more surprises,
other than seeing a friend or loved one’s face
contort into an expression you’ve never seen them do before—
possibly after they’ve done a big sneeze
or started to have a stroke—
then maybe it’s time to kill yourself.
But of course, you won’t kill yourself,
you’ve got a job to do and
you’ve got poems to write about
your tedious life and
your tedious observations about it.
You’ve got a job to do.
Don’t kill yourself.
Keep laying track for the tunnel.
It must be going somewhere.
It must be heading to someone,
some brainless someone,
who’s going to say
“I love you. I love what you do.”