Poemetry by T.A. Barnhart


it doesn’t matter
when we die.
whether a few cells
fail to attach
to the womb,
or birth immediately
becomes death,
or days
or years
follow, one after another;
it doesn’t matter.
we live.
we die.
we exist.
we cease.
by some estimates,
100 billion humans
have been born
into this world;
7-some billion of them
are here today.
of the 93 billion
who have gone,
who have come and gone,
nothing remains.
no spirit.
no essence.
they have been
because that
is all that follows
life and death:

i have lived
63 years, so far,
out of the universe’s
14 billion.
hard to believe
that so little
seems so huge.
but it’s my
63 years.
i’m greedy for more.
if this is all
there is,
then excuse me
if i try to enjoy
the shit out of it.

©TA Barnhart February 2, 2020