Thursday, September 7, 2023

September

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Given the choice

What earthly creature

Would choose to be born?

The chicken or the cow?

The cockroach or the rat?

The brainless jellyfish eaten 

By the oh-so-clever octopus eaten

By the shark?


When I look in the face of my fellow

- Something I must always do

Like when I'm outside at night 

I must look up at the stars - 

I see anguish in their eyes

Because they see the world as it is

And do not turn away,

And I fall in love.


The sleepers close their eyes

Dream of another world.

They say stupid things like, 

There's a reason for everything.


My cat and dog are fed,

Wait for my hand

To be soothed, reassured,

They roam as they please,

Follow their noses,

When called, they come, or ignore it.

The rest of the time they sleep.

Some people look at their pets 

And think ahhh pure love.

I look at mine and think,

Ahhh pure luck.


It's September,

Another hurricane is forming in the Gulf 

Like a curled fetus in an ultrasound 

And my birthday's coming up.

2 comments:

Kelp said...

Some grim thoughts on your birthday …

I’m in the camp that believes it’s better to be born than not. Whether the dog is being eaten by another dog in a dog-eat-dog world, or whether the dog is lucky enough to be a coddled pet, either way life presents its redeeming moments and its moments of redemption.

I, for one, appreciate that you are alive. Happy birthday, my friend!

Glen said...

Thanks Kelp. You and my kids. And sometimes even my wife.