BEING ALIVE CAN ALSO BE FUN
And the new beginning is far away. The moon, which was not imperfect in its beginnings, but so far has been dangerous in places, is what is still taking me through now to the end. And then to turn around and wane. I remember the work there is for me to do and who I am, and what it is that I'm doing when I move and walk and speak and sit down and think. I have to do some things behind the scenes. There are changes to be made daily. The things that I was relaying: there was a reason for saying these things. Maybe they weren't true, but they were indicating the need for something, or a new perspective. I could do nothing but wait for the right time to get what I needed, even if without these things I was feeling as though I was only half there. Who can relate to someone who is half there anyway? I couldn't. Yesterday I made a few noises just to be sure I was alive. I was tired. I was exhausted. Today I hope to spend my time alone, or as a true and absolute delight in all encounters. It's New Year's Eve and I had a good sleep. Last night things were good when I hung up the phone. Only one person has expectations of me today. I cut my hair this morning in the bathroom, thinking of buying some moonstone with fire in it. I need to go out today for raisins and tea lights. Maybe I will go to my sister's. I'm already making plans for the old moon. I hope for rest and relaxation while I'm moving about. I hope to have fun again.
Rielly Stares
TWENTY HOUR DAYS
Twenty hour days were banned by law
in the fifties before the trouble started.
We thought going to war would
solve the problem and we were right,
it has never happened since or in
the foreseeable future. If we just pick
the right people to kill
and get killed, we can live in
coherently with all the worlds,
not just our own.
In the end we become like crows
striving for organization, pecking at
the eyes of our victims,
looking at the world through
our apocalyptic shades.
Don’t worry,
the carapace of indifference will make
everything less possible. and
by the time it gets too hot to handle
we’ll be long gone anyway, off to another
solar system, another exploitable planet,
another cornfield to plunder before the
stick-man finds us out there in the open.
Jack McGuane
