We’ll keep deluding ourselves
With birthday and anniversary dinners
Collecting crystal, making love,
Buying pleasure in music and vacations.
And we’ll laugh at each others’ jokes
Sometimes only because we don’t want
Minute-broken hearts or complaints of how
Someone else always “laughs at my jokes”.
We’ll have children, maybe,
If you’re not too old and I, not too fat
And we’ll give up smoking and frivilous shopping
So that they can have that
Trip to the moon.
And then, old, spent and perhaps happy,
We’ll pray for peace and children who love us;
Till we see, in our geriatric wandering,
A minute of pure, clear, light
Flashing loud and clear, even without our glasses.
Then we’ll wish we could live our life all over again
Differently; Or, wait, wish to be reborn
And not take the same turns.
Or we could just be honest now, my love,
As you lie, satisfied and sweaty, on me
Your mouth a luscious O against my summer skin
And vow never to say ‘I do.’
October 9, 2007.