shooting blanks

i can’t believe

so many people

are so content

to be so old

when i am so discontent

with my youth

and how quickly it goes

and how slow i am

to notice that i quickly

will notice slower

*

if there is

nothing to hold

onto in heaven

i imagine hugs

will be quite lonely

lonelier than the

death that grips

with dirt and wood

like a lover outside

in the park

skirt up

eyes up

me up

and in the stuff

and stuffings

of heaven,

stuffed

*

give me me

tonight

and i will show you

me as i am me

witty and funny

and courageous enough

to talk to you

and show you i’m me

with wit and fun

until morning when

i have fizzled with the coming

sun that bakes your skin

and wakes you away

from me

like the dead