The great poets have already said
everything I wanted to say they
talk about life and drowning and
death and fire and cracked blue
red beautiful things and
humanity and, god help them,
humans. there's not much here for
me to say. i'm trying to do what
they all did, which is articulate
the truth [life is more painful than any of us bargained for and we have all these dreams and desires and barely get to half of them and things are very very dark and very bright and then it's
over. like drowning like the water
has closed over our heads and we
come to the surface gasping retching and finally feel what it's like to be in the body. alive. skin over flesh and bones. and it's kind of gross
but it's like learning that yes, we
can do what people do, which
is love rough and deep and long
and then it's over]. it is a crazy
gorgeous universe out there and
you should know i plan on
exploring every corner of it if
i can, if i live long enough, and
i mean no one ever lives long
enough but you get my drift.
i sympathize with peter pan
but i believe it's okay to grow
up and even adults can fly
though the glittering
cloud-pocked sky and soar
flutter tumble plunge and
it can be beautiful for them
too. the rain is going to come.
you know it is going to
come and you're going to be
ready or you're not but
either way it's happening.
see those thunder clouds up
there? they're going to burst and
water's going to flood to earth
and we're all going to get
caught in it. i guess that's what i'm trying to say. rain,
a bad metaphor for life, out of our control and
against our will, drenching us
until we are sodden with it
choking on it dripping with
it