I asked the old man
If he would miss existence
He flatly stated, “No.”
I asked him if he missed
His girlfriend who died

He said, “Yes, very much.”
Nothing beats love
Love beats on itself
Oblivion beats everything
Does anything stand a chance against oblivion?

Along the road to death
There are some amazing sights
Spectacles, sweet intimate moments
Along the road to breath
A kind of destiny begins

Am I talking over my head?
I chose not to father children
Because I knew I would make a terrible parent
Apparently by mistake
I’ve stepped on a few toes

The persistent inevitability of death
Sound of children playing, laughing
Dank smell of street sewer
I asked the old man
If he would miss existence