trip me up with the frailty of life
the inevitability of mortality
even at this height, I can see the deep darkness
of that impending horizon where no stars shine
and night is eternal

bereft, or is it untethered? from the usual musings
of the encumbered mind
bearing mundanity and micromanagement
saving pennies and clipping coupons

it isn’t that I’m above these things
it’s just that I don’t have the knack
the little things escape me
like innumerable pieces of quartzite rock
microscopic pieces of glass
loam and humus
the remnants of mountains and dinosaurs
the leavings of earthworms and microbes
fall through my nerveless fingers

in the little things, I have always failed you
that which makes this terrible pain bearable
that keeps us at ease moment to moment the currrency of daily living
and the discourse of civilized peoples
instead I remember the unsteady silence
lost in the nebulous dust clouds of my thought

even as you walked beside me

and if I had spoken my thoughts aloud
like some arcane incantation
the incomplete theories of Fermat
or like the mad ravings of Laoocon as Troy fell
the serpents’ venom turning his blood into syrup
into foam
would you not have fled
as far away from me
like a red-shifting quasar
on your fated path to the ends of the universe?

what is the price of knowing me?
for no doubt there is a price
that you are paying, still paying

the others will scratch their heads and wonder
I seem like a harmless fellow
I can jig and caper like the best of the jesters
tell ribald jokes and sing silly songs
if only to hide this roiling madness
held forth from the world by a thin veneer of sanity

and even as the unfathomable impossibilities
of you and I hand-in-hand
even as Orion dove headlong into the sea
and the fire burned low, with naught but the wind and the wave
and the deep silence between
even as infinities begot infinities
and maybe in a trillion dice rolls,
it would’ve come up but once

instead, I will always leave empty-handed
coins wasted on the casino floor
my dreams always ending
your hopes just beginning
at the least, one of us is happy

how dare I, how dare I, gainsay the rule of Fate?
(Oh, I but caper and jig, dance and sing
Can you strike down the jester while he plays for you?)
and even in this infinite impossibility, you still know who I am
you can pluck me from the snowstorm
with your graceful, slender fingers
even in this insane impossibility, you recognize my hexagonal form
my snowflakey uniquity
that might still bring a wry smile on your face
(I but dream, my love. It is only a dream.)

but even through my posturing
even through my helpless flailing
in my mind, you are my center
my compass
and I know this is unwanted, unwished for
(It is the price, my love.
for everything there is a price.)

and if I could disappear
not just to fade off into the sunset
but actually cease to exist in your worldline
I would do it if it would ease your care
and is that not the price
knowing that I would still, even now
I would do aught that you asked of me?
(I’m sorry. You did not ask for this.)

Still the years grow long
and even the sunlight ages
and even 2:30 in the afternoon
feels like 5:30 in the early evening
the days are old
my bones feel ancient
and yet time still sweeps us along
that linear curve around the gravity well

Yesterday I realized that I would die
without knowing love again

I did not weep. I did not make a sound.
I only stepped forward again, as I always have.
One foot in front of the other
up this lonely mountain
and then down again
into that final horizon

bleak and yet terrifyingly beautiful
the end-all, be-all
of all that I never was