Life And Canary
Like death, bittersweet, a canary in a cave,
with cream in my cocoa tasting my spoonful,
dripping through the filter.
Perhaps on tomorrow, bringing down my solo,
in life's Rialto of the caffeine's last drip,
on breath's final encore.
Turning down the lights in the orchestra pit,
and on my Clapboard, Scene 1, Exit,
saving chloroform capsules.
Then, rising like a helium balloon over yonder,
looking for that canary in a cave,
and death's blue lagoon, of life without poetry.