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THE SUN, THE BUSHES, THE HELL OF IT-
the world's out there
irrational and throbbing-
another love gone wrong:
there's little to do but wait
when there's nothing to save.

I'm not saying that the people
were better than I
or that the bushes were better
than I
or that the sun
was better than I.

I am saying that I was more
different than most things.

there is nothing more tragic
than being born alone
in multitudes of
indifference.

god,
to say the final line
that would set it all
straight-
dying on your own schedule
is suicide
but dying on theirs
as I have done
only gives reverence to shit.

there's no way
up
down
or
out


this
war
fails.

© Frank Silvanski