OK, Life, you with the grinning clown face,
I know I’m not the main attraction here,
and of course you’ve slapped me around,
whacked me with bladders,
booted my behind—
but I want you to know
that after all those pratfalls,
I’ve finally got used to your jabs,
your tweaks, your pinches, and—
are you ready for this?
I forgive you.
sometimes on hazy afternoons I’ll hear
the terrible keening of houseflies,
and a tragic crow will conjure up
all those broken stones in Rome,
someone special will glance at me
and look quickly away—
and in that one dagger-deep moment,
Life, you sadistic old joker, I realize
how much I’d miss you
if you turned up missing.