Waiting
So you're waiting for numbers to drop, for
less people to drop,
for dark ICUs to sit idle,
lights off.
Where cobwebs collect dust, and only hungry spiders die.
Only spiders!
'Only spiders' moves through the food chain.
Rodents know how our eight legged feel,
they wait for poisons and traps
disgust and often glee.
And on we go, bigger all the time.
Cattle! What a loathsome noun
some run free, eat grass....
Where do we stop
the 'Jude' waited, and
learned to count impossible numbers.
The waiting will continue.
I don't wait...maybe anticipate,
my number will, of course
be called.
And when it's up,
I'm pretty sure it'll be spectacular, only
by virtue of its ordinariness.
I won't be surprised.
My rotting corpse will fit right in,
will enjoy the absorption
the transfer to worms and roots.
They won't have to wait too long I hope,
just snip a few bits off,
those time-hardened ego scales, that
no matter how hard I tried,
I could never dislodge.
There's an amazing app that'll tell you how long you'll live.
You can then count and wait
to see if it was right.
