and that’s the long
and the short of it

long story short
long story longer:

when you were younger
and you had that hunger
free will, free spirit
now you don’t even bother

your personal armageddon
is headin yer way
and the world will keep turning
until it doesn’t—
axes evaporated
the blood of the virgins
and the castrated—
making a mockery
of your memories:

first love and fragile friendships,
bravery now unbeknownst to you

a slow afternoon walk
with your mother

the sun to warm you both
birdsong to calm you
blue skies to save you—

now, to travel the planet
try everything twice, thrice
only to realize:

none of it
none of it
none of it

was ever,
and never could be,

enough.

[when the very syllabic pound
            of their name,
just does somethin to ya—

and the mail piles up
            under the slot, collecting ancient dust,
saying in silence: no one’s here.]