Morning

~for my wife~

The universe woke up today
and decided, fuck it all, I'm gonna make THAT one
cry.

The universe put on its dark silvery robe,
strolled on down to the Fate Machine and hit
"brew."

The red light whispering into the darkness,
the hum of stars and planets churning, someone on Earth
stops.

This person looks into the sky, or into the air between atoms,
and feels the overflow of heat and tears permeate their being:
Nothing

will ever be the same; I am having a realization
that I am not the best me, that I am flawed, that I am
lost,

that I have been forgotten, that I am shit on God's shoe,
that I have no motion but to finish my dinner, wipe my chin, and
diminish.

Mmm, the universe thinks, good enough to the last drop.
Waaah, the person weeps, never ever good enough.
Lonely,

the universe is so lonely, with only itself,
and, with so many of us, we are so
powerless.

We have but each other and the universe has its power.
I give us, the universe and all of us in it, a new name:
Mourning.

What is it that we keep losing, that it keeps hurting?
What is it that keeps hurting, that we can't give
up?

Why don't we wake up before the universe does
and say, fuck it all, we're gonna make our own god damn
cup?