June 2023
Author's Note: It’s been said-- if the reader will forgive my tinkering with the original quote-- that an old woman’s fancy might eventually turn to thoughts of-- well, of “survival", and related states of non-being. The poem below should be read as a firm denial of that inevitability. I wrote it recently as someone who’s really not quite ready to cave, having spent the last several decades slouching toward the rejuvenating power of poetry, with lively journals like Verse-Virtual at my side. (Please note, by the way, that a far more informative bio can be found at my website: www.mltpoet.com
Fair Warning
Unlike everybody else,
I don’t intend to die.
Let other people write their wills
and testaments. Not I.
Believe me, I do not propose
to wind up six feet under,
deleted like a Facebook friend,
my life a one-hit wonder.
No wooden coffin, big bronze urn,
no crematory fire
for me, just so the world can watch
my destiny expire—
Instead, I’ll find a hideout here
in town, for long-term lease.
A bunker, or an upper flat
with lots of windows, please.
From there I’ll watch this withering world
turn darker every morning.
Is it hopeless? Maybe not,
but let this be fair warning:
I will not wait for some “reward”
(as if I’d ever I win one).
And neither should the human race,
in my humble opinion.
©2023 Marilyn Taylor
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL