What didn't we do?
and as usual
when I say we I mean me
and by me I mean him
because he's different.

He or him is not now
but back then
I couldn't tell them apart.

Life is like an infection with
dissatisfaction and we or me or
him or I need an inoculation.

I'll end up as a fake number on
a driving license
or even worse a verse in one of
my own poems.

I could be poetry in my own autopsy,
but only the future will be able to tell me
unless he has a different idea.