it seems kind of pointless
and more than a bit stupid
to blame my brain
for all my problems,
but there ya go.
my parents are dead
and my ex-wife is ex
and all those shitty kids from school
and all those shitty adults
from all over the damn place –
like farts in the wind,
they are gone
and i have no intention
of recalling the stink
from being around them.
(my children are blameless.
it is my role
to be the one
available for their blame.
i’m here if they need me.)
my brain is my universe.
there is nowhere
and nothing else.
so as i sit here,
utterly perplexed by life
and wondering what to do
to feel like i was glad
to have endured it all,
i stare at my brain,
demanding some answers,
demanding some kind of explanation
and a bit of an apology.
nothing.
it’s just me and the chickens.
all i’m left with
is the time i’m left with.
it hardly matters
what i decide to do.
anything that makes me happy,
anything that brings a bit of peace;
more than good enough.