Death is Short

18 03 2010

death is but a tiny part of life.
the period to a sentence.
why does a second only last a second?
should I try to extend my life
with meditation or medication?

would exercise work in lieu of religion?
and there is the matter of fragrances wilted
and loved ones unhugged and appointments abandoned.
memoirs unwritten and gardens untended.
Will they find me in old notebooks and on shreds of paper?
or logged indecipherable in hard disk eternity?

If God remembers everything and the universe is really square,
they’ll have it all on tape; they’ll know I was there.
I wore my Armani tuxedo with Converse treads
and never went nowhere without my hat upon my head.
Life is a caustic regimen; galaxies sprung from the hinge
and repeating themselves like drunks in the fringes of creation.

Why fear the inevitable? Death moves silent as a xerox cat
it’s latent in our genes like brackets or parentheses
but it’s a brief affair, a kiss and a hump
and rebirth trumps resurrection every time.

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