You don’t talk to the dead
you talk at them
setting the story aright
a canoe overturned in rapids
belongings sodden
tied down by intention
to survive
words float to the surface
old old old old old
Oh you have come full circle
the beginning of the end
that is erasure
a pressure to speak
not chatter! not defeated
all your mistakes stacked against you
In the no place of your somewherelse mind
you don’t join the swimmers
don’t join old folks for a communal meal
When the only person who calls
speaks a foreign tongue
when free association obscures your dream
a queen who could no longer be herself
being crowned
do you feel shame
thriving alongside humanity’s crimes
against life the shame
of a good enough fortune?
Life human life For Hawking
an equivalent in all the universe
unlikely Feel it! that pressure
to evolve
to become a paradigm
of compassion
to grow in spiritual insight
to find eternal life
alight within