We call them lucky, those who don’t die young;

those who live long enough to see

how incorrect most are about the nature

of love and humanity

We call them lucky because

we’re still young as well;

older folks know better

Too few dare, and too few care

Better to die in the midst of youth’s delusion

Or maybe all I ever did was come close

to what the rest of you so unsafely

settle into

She’s 10 feet away, and I don’t even

get to see her face

We’re all in such a hurry to go nowhere

Tossed together, then parted fo...