there came a time,
preferred alligator soup
over chicken noodle.
and never having had
alligator soup,
one, then, never knows,
does one?
when we've been dead longer
than we were alive,
then we will know
we were breathing
much too slow.
I've been foolish.
but then again, foolish
suit me, much like an
old proven suit;
complete with wrinkles
and a few holes.
as probable as it is to
fart up a storm
where we eat and sleep,
and not wake up murdered,
is sure a fine way
to start a new day.
if purpose were so
all fired important,
we would have purpose
for every meal,
and wake with purpose
all over us, making
mad passionate love.
