A Talk with the Kid

you’re a bright boy.
you’ve got wings
and hopeful eyes.
you’re still Young,
and you’re tearing your way into manhood
with philosophical garbage –
most young men with good brains
waste them asking stupid questions like
as if there are ghosts who whisper
such answers
into the waiting ears of

but you will find out one day about
and you will come to loathe it for being
a query without wit
tucked into a bottle and thrown
out into the interstellar medium

what did you hope would happen?
would the solar winds carry your message
to the Sentient One?
did you think he returns his fan letters?

you’re just a kid, though,
and all kids write
fan letters –
little boys idolize old men
for some reason,
and so do you

but old men are just old men
and you’re still Young
and you still ask “why?”
and you still pontificate because the
Alzheimer’s hasn’t hit you yet

quit wasting your time asking around for

after all, you are invincible, and
don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

you don’t want to end up like the Rest Of Us

do you?

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