if I had failed the struggle there would have been none…

there will be no peace, no solace, no reference to
wisdom.
night will follow night
like a string of ants
come to carry you
away.
in a world cluttered with famous
idiots
there will be no wise
escape.
you will face the hard
impossibility while
chewing upon toast
or cleaning your
ass
or waiting upon the
results
of a photo finish
or a cancer
check-up.

there will be no voice to
listen to,
no acceptable
god.
even the laughter you once
knew so well, they will have
stripped that from
you.

to be worn down
finally
like water upon
stone.

youth was used to
fight them
off.
middle-age to contemplate the
wounds…
and now
this
to simple record
futility.