Less than alive

We have to be careful
of spending time
doing things that are less than alive.
It can become a habit, like anything.

We could all in any moment
inflame ourselves
with hubric passions
to ignite the starry blacktop
like phosphenes before closed eyes
the total night
that must happen
when the body gives over.
But we don’t.
We play video games.
We watch television.

Death is total relaxation
a final enduring exhale
like the ultimate orgasm.

But
I am told you shit your pants.
Most people are less afraid of dying
then they are shitting their pants.

And everyone is around you
is making a spectacle of your body
which doesn’t have the sense
to shut its own eyes or legs or mouth
tongue lolling out stupidly
and now you’ve soiled yourself.

God is a sadist
or a practical joker.
All the dignity they try
to restore with make up
and chemicals
and plastic putty
was already shit away
in your last act of life
or first act of death.

Quite a way to make an exit.

You have to.
Be careful to spend your life alive.
Death has no sympathy for you;
you are not special to it.
Don’t be fooled by the constant
ridiculous Grin
over those pale white cheeks bones.

It’s laughing at you.
And it will.
The question is:
What are you going to do about it
while you still have some time?