Life is a disease, to be born is to suffer: illness, old age, death
Inside the black box, all memories disappear, zapped from the hard-drive
For the brain to scan past events, to remember what it imagines
Engineers ideas like the soul that it conceives while gasping for breath
Illness comes and goes, an inconvenience to catch, this impermanence
Sickness sleeps in bed all day long until better, no one pulls the jive
Aging at sunset, thoughts regard past legacy, earthenware tagines
Disease eats away the body of Christ, as flesh and blood, flesh and bone
Illness engineers the ingenious, razor-sharp while impertinence
Shaves off the stubble, pathetic pathologies, the struggle of time
Ease is perfection, a math or spelling exam, a rare occasion
Answers provided by the whiz kid at the back of the classroom, grime
Soils clean fingernails, actions form consequences beyond persuasion
Ease of the whiz kid to belittle the stupid, sink like a lake stone
Tragedy, bright lights in the maternity ward, unopened, closed eyes
Open to darkness, the warmth of the womb, baby, choose infanticide
Because to be born, no matter how fucking cute, infants be... in pain
Ever since firstborn Cain kills his brother, Abel, murder forms great lies
Because illusions of silence and solitude, solipsism views
Obedience sound and yet hears the direction of spirit as pride
Redirect the mind, the hormones within the brain, before the insane
Nature of error arises, the volcano erupts as active
If to kill Hitler as a baby, is it wrong, as events defuse
Suffer in prison, the only person who knows the truth of grand schemes
Transcend history, is it possible, pretend to know nothing now
Objectivity dissolves the ground of meaning, the streams within dreams
Suffer the error of erroneous thinking, imagine the plough
Under such duress, the collision of all time, mergers attractive
For enterprises, in five billion years, to grow or downsize with the sun
For Andromeda and the Milky Way will meet, the sun will expand
Everyone worries about climate change but this, what will take place first
Remember this place, for a reason, none at all, John, thy will be Donne
Illness protects men as Andromeda rules men, why wait for the end
Left to the mercy of a collision course in time, a meltdown at hand
Likens galaxies and the Sun as gods of yore, antiquity cursed
Not as murderers or witnesses to murder, who knows what exists
Exactly, and when exactly, precisely when, astronomy friend
Such calculations are never easy, even with a computer
Simply wait and see, just four or five billion years, who has time for that
Old age grips the heart tighter and tighter as time holds hands, the suitor
Left to be desired, as the contents within space, a brain in a vat
Difficult to say, forgetfulness forgotten, memory persists
Abandoned unseen, out of sight thus out of mind, beside a mountain
Granted food is scarce, geronticide is unkind, grandma doesn't mind
Even a poet suffers like everyone else with nothing to gain
Death acts uncertain, flipping a coin, heads or tails, wind in a fountain
Every day she wrote a poem for her husband and he did the same
After sixty years, she put together a book, the market was blind
Troubled by her loss, after her husband moved on, she stopped a freight train
Her death was absurd and yet not unexpected, her son felt no shame
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