A Small Amount of Humility

The clock is ticking.

The noise should be constant. It should

hit the beat all the time. But

it’s tick, tick, tick. Then tick, tick – tick. Suddenly

your heartbeat no longer lines up.

You feel as though you’re dying by the second

or half second.

It really depends on when that tick happens.

Feeling death or thoughts of dying

is what we do after 40.

We balance whether this cheeseburger is worth

that extra 30 minutes it’s probably taking.

It is, by the way.

In my last 30 minutes,

I will be remembering all the great food I’ve had

and forgotten meals

consumed in front of the television.

People, in life, encourage humility.

They tell you to be humble in sports,

it’s only a game.

They tell you to be humble to your family,

they are the ones who love you

whether or not you’ll ever improve.

Be humble before God,

because…

Well I am not really sure and also

fuck that.

When I die,

I want people to be so shocked

that they shut down

like a soldier who developed PTSD

as a child.

When I die, I want there

to be a service so grand

that people wished they could have had an invite.

When I die,

I want it to create a hole so big

that physics can’t fill it.

I want everything I’ve written

to be read again.

To children.

Even the fuck words.

Because you should only trust

people who curse.

I want my stuff

to have a presence on eBay.

I want a fireworks ceremony

so I can scare

the shit

out of my cats, one last time.

I want to be the character

that everyone is pissed is gone the next season.

I want a memorial bench

so now I can support you.

I know I haven’t always.

When all we are given is

a murderous teacher

named time…

When all we have is

what we leave behind.

It shouldn’t surprise you

that I want some immortality.

As much as I can get.

Who’s selling it?

Where can I buy it?

You want to be loved in life.

I want to be loved eternally.

I want you to remember me,

smiling.

Then laughing so hard

that I make zero noise.

I want you to remember how blue

my eyes were

when the sun finally came out.

I want that clock

to hit the seconds

like it’s supposed to.

Every. Single. Time.

My heart doesn’t like the spaces.