3035. TRUCKLOADS OF STUPID GRIEF

TRUCKLOADS OF

STUPID GRIEF
Constable, police chief, master rabbi,
teacher, leader, dupe or clown : each of
these are mere conditions of Man. Some
without a meaning and others with nothing
to do. See the foolish one over there, singing
before guitar and heater, mouth on a harmonica
like a stupid, lethal greeter, or a canary in some
closed-down coal mine no one ever cared about
anyway. Watch the truck go by; look at that,
it's rolled right off the cliff. And, up there, in
the sky, I swear that plane just blew apart.
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My mid-air vanishing act, my roadway wreck;
these are the same as all of your illicit dreams
and lies. Fellow, man, friend, pal - once a
something or other to me, a kiddie's pal, a
nothing now. So filled with bile and puke as
to make me sick myself. These are roles,
of the sort that men play. Harmless
tomorrow, but lethal today.
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By those standards it doesn't matter,
for there is no tomorrow anyway.