Well, let us pray
we’ve all seen it
and pray that is the final form
it will take: bloated
yet wrinkled, angry
yet sleepy and
damn near comatose
while still spewing rage
from every aging pore.
If it dies tomorrow
it will be too narrow a day;
it may take eons for it to go
completely,
but at least let us wash ourselves
free enough of that stain
and stink, to be able
to see our souls,
our hands, our eyes clean
of it —
now and evermore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T
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