There’s something so obtuse

There’s something so obtuse
about the way I mostly think,­­­
the breadth I choose
The surgeon held her lungs
half decayed with cancer in his hands
Much that I assumed would last
forever perishes like the lapse from
what I wanted and finally grasped

“Are you depressed?
Columbia’s new brain imaging
machine will cure you”
You must cherish her
take good care of her
Some kind of addled experiment that
involves the collectivization of gaiety
and the compulsory infliction of joy

The racket that some of us
called music finally stops
Some clocks are right twice a day
but most are never quite right
“So did you do the exercises?
Nobody does the exercises”
This car is powered by diesel fuel
and that car is powered by blood

What’s the significance of three orange
lights all aligned in a row overhead?
We don’t know if this is a frightful comedy
or the harshest kind of rhythmic drama
No point to chide her for her failure
to achieve what she didn’t attempt
She was a great, great lover but
she never loved me




-December 12, 2015-