I want to get into the indices, please
Tunnel my way through history
Around town not surround sound

Dive into the here and where
Strive for thenceforth not hitherto
Being around and abound

Some legacy is mere trickery
But I want it legitimately
While dissolving to ground

This is a time rhyme
A jurassic fantastic, an
Ichthyosaur score

I’m having a bones Jones
As a coprolite acolyte
If the **** fits, be it

It’s all just a flicker-flash
Our all-important mad-dash
To be immortalized fossilized

A poem percolates
Urges unknown rise
Seeking wording
Needing knowing
An idea switch itch

Write right
Purge urge
Woke spoke
Do truth
Be me

We are old now
When they are gone

We are on our own now
With journeys strange, long

We go our ways now
Whistling solo songs

We be who we are now
Elders—right or wrong

Expectations can be dangerous
Friends could let you down
Especially those you love
Thinking true friends
Would do more

Potted plant?
Tuna casserole?
Mailbox sympathy?
Telephone empathy?
Requiem recognition?

Do I lower expectations?
Expect less of them?
Stiffen my resolve?
Grieve for relief
On my own?

Should I stay or should I go?
Just get it on up?
Or keep it down low?
Pick up the pace?
Or chill it to slow?
Do what needs doing?
Does it really though?

What will I do?
I’ll let you know.

Last first day teaching
Carrying a grief backpack
The show did go on