182. (Curtains Fall)

(Curtains rise)
Considering the oak in the walls
there was something here
more interesting than the alcohol.
Listening to the conversations
in the gin house
nothing meant more
than a lover’s face
an arm
something involving then
uninvolved partners.
Moments before time
was shared or gathered
whatever it meant
to matter.

There was a reaching
for the highest of mountains
and there was a misstep
a fall
(let’s say)
and then the worst of all things
a depression
a rut that something the size
of a small giant baby crying
warped in a fetal position rests
(but for what?)

and then nothing
the forgotten gun blasts
of a thousand artillery shells
firing all at once
a riotous noise
a sound
a fury
encompassing everything
signifying nothing.

“Remember these moments”
a voice whispers
“as if they were all
there ever was
as if they are all
that ever will be.”
(Curtains fall)


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