Friday, April 1, 2022


After you've been 
on the Earth 
for a while, 

the bitter things 
start to taste better
and better.

Those acrid black coffees 
and astringent 
brown liquors—

which at first 
made you grimace 
and shiver a little—

now taste a lot more 
like the sweet woe 
of knowing 

that, with each passing 
sip, the gnarled 
measuring stick 

with which you tally 
your verve grows more brittle 
and shorter.

By the time you're 85, 
you're burning morning 
toast on purpose,

heaping turmeric 
and dirt on raw 
eggplants for dinner;

such tastes of oblivion 
are more than just 

a daily brush 
with the ghastly truth
is all that keeps you going.