To climb out of a mother’s womb
            And plant the bitter kiss of betrayal
To furtively compose a song for Dad
            And cry echoes into a torn drum’s shell
To crawl one’s way into a city’s heart
            And drink alone into the dead of night
To make love on top of clean sheets
            And disappear before morning dew
To slip a tattered ring onto her finger
            And bury her beneath Evergreen stars
To build a treehouse with green hands
            And burn it down to a silhouette of ashes
To rest old bones in a rocking chair
           And weep over tight-lipped children
To wonder at the edge of a mountain's peak
           And fall into infernal echoing abyss

               To live
                                Or,
                                          To not live