Brooding at my desk
From an open book
Resisting a hand full
Of sleep from time
To time, recalling
As I drift forward
Or aft the soft sail
Boat sway on a calm
Day, Susan brilliantly
Smiling into a morning’s
Rising sun – time stilling,
Watching my main
Sail flutter, and never
Caring until that time
Ran out and runs out still
Sitting here snapping awake
From my palm-perch which
I flex and flex until I have
The feeling back – the
Rest of me though loses all
That is back there once again
If you wish to die, strike one on
Your keyboard. When the next
Screen appears, select your
Reason from the ten provided.
After this you will need to strike
Your signature key. If you
Do not have such a key,
Go to the “create your signature”
Screen and create one. You will
First need to answer the questions
Listed. You will be notified within
Two weeks if your signature has
Been approved. If your yearly
IRS Tax bill has been under ten
Thousand dollars a year, expect
Near-term approval. If higher
You will be directed to a Grief
Counselor. If after two years, and
With your counselor’s approval
You still wish to die, your request
Will be reassessed and you will
Be directed to a new Grief Counselor
Hobbling along a cobblestone
Road, it won’t take long
To run me down. How far
Can I get? I’m sure they
Wish I were not out here
Ahead of them again, but at
Least I’m no one urgent.
My existence anywhere being
Merely overdue. There were
Calculations, slide rules
At first and adding machines,
But now its smart phones and
Artificial intelligence. It knows
Each step I take and where
I’m likely to go. When I don’t
Go there, an algorithm files
Another complaint of the sort
I’m tired of responding to,
Searching down this road
For a better place to hide.
In the last act, viva voce,
The soprano softly sighed
Gasping the words of her
Remaining song. They were,
She sang, of her love and how
I’d vowed to care for her
Until this our end now
Being portrayed. I could
Not then sing. I tried
Instead to smile. Her wan
Look faded with each
Uttered word sung softly
In diminishing refrains.
We heard the approaching
End. I sang the anguishing
Solo as the lights dimmed. The
Ushers jangled the doors wanting
Us gone. With my hand in hers
I turned to the emptying chairs
And bowed -- one – last – time.
Having been given the murder
I quickly scanned all the
Previous detective had, the
Rusty knife, the empty shells,
The blood-soaked room, the
Body stretched upon the floor.
My old mind feared I wasn’t
Up to the task; yet I’d always
Managed once I focused upon
The crime. I stood in
The dark and conjured
The man who killed the woman
Upon the floor. The door began
To open. I drew my Glock and
Moved against the wall.
The killer had returned to
View his crime. He came
In nimbly, firing, but I
Was the quickest into his
Darkness and into mine.
One more silence to add
To all the rest, resting in
Peace perhaps, he surmises
Leaning back into his agitation.
It’s hard to sort the maybe
From the inevitability of
Dissolution. Words swirl
Perhaps, thinking thoughts
Being in nine decades
Past what most think
Convenient, too old to
Learn the new procedures,
Too set in his ways to
Accept the urging down
The stairs, the bucket
At the bottom, the crutches
And alarm clock chanting
Electronically with no way
To shut it off, the instructions
Being too small to read with
The weak eyes of such a man.
I am running again, faster
Than before, with phantoms
Thrusting larger, slavering
Jaws joyful under smiling eyes.
Street after street we pass
Beyond the critics who can’t
Accept her as she is nor me,
Never having studied the wall
Nor seen its etchings, “snap,”
The whip flicks out. I don’t
Feel it as it does. My dog would
Field the insult if I did, caring
At its peak, and I’ve no
Wish to create more.
We come back up the canyon.
Careening cars flick by, whistling,
Honking. There is a flutter of rain.
Nothing slows. We’re again as we
Were earlier in the day. She doesn’t
Pause to judge me nor I her – nails
Sparking on the road as we run by.
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