Downward Spiral

The worseness of it all, 

Neurasthenic weightlessness 

meets certain doom.

Doom gives purpose,

but I’m not religious.

It’s good to see a friend.

This is unchanging, not worsening,

and even the grief

gives time together weight

And yet

The worseness worsens,

and what’s worst,

it’s curdling a time of ease

unknown to my ancestors

and, one assumes, yours.

Though there are those among us,

I hope, from elsewhere.

Hope? Who said that. 

But now it’s in the room.

I think I just said

I hope we’re not alone,

that some ancestors

are aliens.

So now the hope is happening

but only in a sci-fi sense,

and so it only makes sense

to apply sci-fi sense

To everything!

And now I’m cooking.

Maybe I am religious?

Suddenly less weightless

and doom feels delicious.

So this is how it happens

and further curdles

my time of ease.

But listen:

It’s good to see a friend.

This is unchanging, not worsening.

And yes, there is the grief

Giving time together weight.

I am not weightless, nor religious.

Nor neurasthenic. Nor certain

Of doom,

Though doom is certain. 

I am not certain.

Uncertainty is not weightlessness.

My optimistic unknowing

Is my offering to you.