I will celebrate the exit from this plane

in a glorious intoxication;

a night of whirling like a dervish

of broken glass and loud noise

and diving in my lovers’ arms

and mumbling in a drunken stupor.


All my friends will be there

some enemies too;

but no flowers, no parting gifts, no crying,

no wasting time on things

that never spoke to me in words

or maybe a bark or meow.


I’ll give out prophecies

for a future I won’t see

and pass along belongings.

I might even write checks

delaying payment

until I’m gone.


I won’t be brave, defiant or rude;

I won’t do things I’ve never done

say things I’ve never said

or try to forge alliance with the hereafter.

The only gods I want to appease

are Bacchus and Dionysus.

And I will celebrate

only what life has given me

not what it took away.


One response to “Departure

  1. Ouffe this one ‘hits the spot’ tha ta poume apo conda…

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