Where Do We Go From Here

-after Alan Parson’s Project

death is a jogging track

a loop into nothingness

God in a track suit

setting pace, those that can’t

keep up aren’t fit

to enter the fabled gates

disposed like used gloves

hand sanitized and washed

with no regard to what comes

after

the genderless fog kisses my lips

like a mother, soft and giving

never leaning into the moment

but bidding us toward

whatever is beyond that slight veil

of a tomorrow we never

counted on or counted out,

it was just there

and we are bleating like sheep

to follow a slaughtered lamb

checking his Fitbit for steps