Forty Something One Day Downby Douglas McCulloch “Life’s a bitch and then you’re dead”
She said, as if there were no echoes,
No memories, no heavens and no hells,
Here or elsewhere,
As if examples did not reverbrate,
Broadcast all around, seeds for the future,
Whether she likes it or not,
To tint our common heavens grey or blue. She wasn’t deprived, in fact the cream
She was (we’re being polite, d’you mind?)
Among the brightest, God help us,
And, I have no doubt, a “realist”,
Who thought the truth would make her free. It’s true; free she is,
Like water without a bucket or a gardener. Copyright 1997 Douglas McCulloch « back |
