Got the shingles
the shakes
the quakes
and not in good ways
just old days
no pay, can't afford
to miss it
must do it all
and fast
before it's gone
I'm gone
nothing but a memory
that all else will forget
but have to be happy
yes
must do it all
jump from every cliff
scream every note
of every song
then make some up
and make some out
and make some love
and paint bodies colors that are too perfect for skin
too analogous
mix them all up
melt them
any way possible
must be quick
run
run until the molecules that make the body
fall apart from exhaustion
dissipate
become a part of the universe;
they will be dispersed
and each atom
each fiber
each silk string of theoretical maybeness
will know what has been done,
can tell an infinite number of stories
and they will each
be moments in time
replayed for the pleasure
of only me.