the great mysteries...
love, death, you, me, etc.
how sad, how lovely
is it all?
my excuses to live
better be better
than a hypocrite's shrimp salad.
cheeks red with comedic regret,
skip the harassing embarrassment.
my reasons to live
better be better
than my excuses to die.
because if they are not,
then why go home?
instead, listening
to Pearl Jam's "Black"
and going back in time
with Justin "Leslie" Foyil.
standing in the present,
while pretending the future is forgivable.
sometimes a mango goes oopsy.
sometimes a Yankees player's surgeon son says you have cancer.
sometimes love leaves.
everything should end
with a "To be continued..."
until you're dead
for a decade.