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04
15
07
An Open Letter to my Onrushing Midlife Crisis (on Tax Day)


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Dear shiny-fast-monstrous-whatever-you-
are. I see you, larger as you approach,
filling the horizon, shadows across
clouds as that bigass steamroller out front
with the long spikes chomping up the earth in oily
plumes—my direction—post-apocalyptic
farm tool. I want to thank you in advance
for the oblivion, and coloring
everything so sexy. Especially me,
after several ___________ [insert vice], all-the-more
attractive and witty and somehow interesting,
including my love of ___________ [insert hobby].
(So much I'll slur my strung-together words.)

What's that you're screaming? (Is that a tug whistle
or a foghorn? It's echoing off the canyon
walls, boulders are shifting their positions.)
"I'm going to die?" Yes? Yes. Some floating
dab of plaque, or bubble of air, at the wrong
intersection, the heart seizes–a robin
trapped in the chimney flue—some river is blocked
or bursts. Yes, right, and sooner rather
than later, yes. Come on ahead then you fuck.


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post #189
bio: john ball
perma-link
4/15/2007
21:23

archives
first post
that week
my links




April - National Poetry Month 2007

Category List
Angels
April - National Poetry Month 2005
April - National Poetry Month 2007
April - National Poetry Month 2008
April - National Poetry Month 2009
Blather
Blather
Correspondence
Demons
February Smackdown!
Here, I'm trying to be Funny
My personal favorites
Novel Excerpts
Random Memoir Fragment



Previous Posts
Please Support My Run in the NYC Marathon
A Fortunate Age (trailer)
Albums. Landlines. Square television.
I don't love anything, not even Christmas
My favorite place in the world
How do you Plea?





Favorite Things
drinking
· Stone Ruination IPA
eating
· Pie
listening
· Snuzz
reading
· A Fortunate Age
watching
· Free Radio, season 2