so here I am

feeling like a carbon copy of myself

smudged in blue powdery print

(anyone out there remember carbon paper?

the simplest things I've know will be footnotes

to some inaccurate record of these times--

should the world last long enough to receive)

imagine how many of this generation

will feel this way when their youth is past

and they'll howl from their trash basket

about how no one can get help with their medical bills

because drug and insurance companies have raised

their costs beyond any vouchers you can wave at them

with or without Obamacare

and they who mocked with be mocked

by their sociopathic children more rude and ill-bred

than they ever were (and that's saying a hell of a lot)

me? I don't care much

each day brings me closer to rejoining

all I've loved

gone now but for the ring of powder left

on the memories of those who will also soon pass

and I will be a memory on the 'net or in fading print

and whatever I had to say

will be said by others who will also be forgotten in time

embrace your living minute

to hell with notions of greatness or earthly immortality

no one listens because all have their own understanding

and could care less for anything that will not give them

a few forgetful hours

I myself feel like the body's chalk outline

at a crime scene

with that miserable perpetrator Time

in plain sight as forensic investigators

call in experts to figure out

what these powdery carbon traces are...

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito