AND ALL THAT

AND ALL THAT

I was present
at the funeral of the dead Universe,
not a pallbearer
but did bring flowers
(obviously not there
at its birth)

was sure
     they would let me
give a little speech
but was assured
I wasn’t
important enough, and
being a sort-of poet
would be
bound
to get the tone wrong,
if not break into
rap, or, heavens forbid, song

and so
     my bubble burst,
disappointment expanding
at the speed of light

I found a fulcrum, place
to stand, and lever

spent all of eternity
dissing the hell out
of everything, everyone
that somehow
found themselves forced into
or openly deciding

to love badly, and
be loved badly back.