by Jeff Brown
Age, a concept considerably misunderstood.
If you are living, consider millions dead
Who were once your age.
Can you now brag of youth?
Are your sagging belly and skin such a sin?
Tyrannosaurus Rex sent trembling
All living, heaven and earth. Now,
hundreds times smaller and softer,
Lifeless on children's beds and shelves.
Wild Bill, Doc Holiday, Butch Cassidy,
Sundance Kid, dark heroes with cartoon names,
Die on in Technicolor. For entertainment
Their eyes filling with X's again and again.
Most of us will live stuffless, movieless deaths.
Toy factories, Paramount making no claim to our
Lack of fame. A million to one dead that way.
What is the point? Why take this life
When womb called by our DNA?
Being more than at a loss, the rope hope
Dangled from now nothing but thread,
Slowly, a ripple glides across the tar pit:
Tyrannosaurus Rex astir, winking,
Looking nothing like dead.