this had better just be a single chapter in this life.
simply footnotes as i jump boats. into small ponds, i dive
just a temporary post to be fulfilled and then replaced:
parting gifts and a toast.
i wonder what they'll say at the funeral
of course they're gonna spout nice things
but i'm wondering if they'll have stayed up yesterday
scraping the barrel thinking up something good to say
i wonder what they'll say
i'm still taunted by traffic lights and the sepia toned street-lamps at night
they're the clenched-fist hand-shakes that say
"you're destined to tread the water gushing the other way"
it's heading the opposite way