NaPoWriMo Day 10

EVERYBODY’S GOTTA LIVE
after Arthur Lee, for M.T.

Hold my hands
in front of my face;
there’s a man with a gun
between each finger.

My body in the mirror
a pale ugly fruit;
the button on the oven
says STOP TIME
but when I press it
nothing happens.

The elegance of the hydrogen molecule,
a cup & saucer
at the end of the universe.
This solar system
just a mote in someone’s far out
tear, a witch’s nipple
that dims the sky;
my pretties,
that’s close enough.

Enough for a last ditch
day-glo attempt,
fifty million their heads
sinking below
the waterline, hair streaming
over them like the winter
limbs of a bad old elm:
Officer, that man
will not stop dying.

A centipede jitterbugging
on the roof of hell,
eating the flowers,
casting a long shadow
on the black & red daffodils;
a quilt of malice
& regret. Regret
for what was, but
mostly regret
for what wasn’t.
Desire the only
philosophy.
A skull
in a fistful of grapes.
Put on your dancing shoes
& never go home.