If There Were Nothing, It'd Look Like This

One side is on a peg
because the ankle is sprained.
The termites crawl up from the earth and take out every crutch,
everything you could've leaned on.
 
Just like day burns and the night is cold, and the only pleasure's in the evening,
the cosmos has a single planet with life and the rest is suffocation and lonelinesses.
 
The only strength is the brain inside, but when it elapses, death shrouds and cuffs in the minute.
 
Before you can awake, you can't.
The urge is gone.
And the heart dries, shrivels into a sunbaked towel.
 
You have one life, one mind, one mouth to scream with
the agony of the first notes of Beethoven's "Fate".
 
How sad.
 
Existence seems like a sea,
but once a soul rides out near shore,
it spits it out onto a dirty plane,
and somehow where the starfish lands
is the real eternity.