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Pome Bout Life

by Eric Hinkle

There are only so many things you can say about
life.
In fact, I know the number:
447.
I happen to know numbers 89-98 by heart.

In random order, I can tell you that
life is a bastard: it has no idea
who its father is.
Common answers are God, Darwin, Walt Disney, and James Brown.

Life is a game.
I think Parker Brothers made it.
You spin the wheel and all of a sudden you
have a bunch of kids and a shitty job.
keep me away from that wheel.

Life is also a cereal: it gets stale fast,
and if you try to make it healthier with
nutrient-rich milk,
it gets soggy within 14 seconds.
This is a further symbol of its bastardlyness.

Life is a piece of shit.
Every time I show up on
someone's doorstep with a paper bag full of
sweet charm,
I get lit on fire and stomped on.

Life is a bicycle.
When you fall off all you can do is
get back on.
(Unless you really mess up, and then,
well,
oh well.)

Life is a foreign language:
you only understand it if you really want to
(and even then you can only ask for directions.)

I forget what the next two are.

But life is also the Arctic Ocean:
cold and blue and full of bizarre and terrible creatures,
and you'll drown unless you have a life vest.
(Of course, being a bastard, life makes it very hard
to find a life vest.)

Lastly, life is the Arts:
a lot of it is really atrocious,
some of it makes you roll your eyes,
a bit of it makes sense,
but there are just enough moments of clear, crazy
beauty and wonder to make it
worth the trek.

So don't let it get soggy, dig?

11/25/2010

Author's Note: 11/16/10 eh

Posted on 11/25/2010
Copyright © 2024 Eric Hinkle

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