Poem: Necessary Bio

A curse,


By cosmic—

By cosmic old,

Rips apart,

The organ you call a heart—

But not right away,


The curse likes to play.

First blinking,


The sensation sinking,

Requiring thought,

To get sleep,

Then finding,

Like granite grinding,

The annoying fact,

Of swallowing taking active—


Of digesting being,

Not a given.

Breathing comes next—

A gulp every time for next breath.

A sinking slush we call—

Soon death.

It’ll take longer now,

Before heartbeats take pounding,



A chest.

Before every sense,

From eyes to brain,

Need active energy,

To keep processes the same.

Most go mad before they go—

Most do not live long enough,

To show,

The disappearance of humanity,

That comes—

When all you think about,

Is being one.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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