If You Can’t Watch

by Regis Boff

Every death,

comes with its particular

novelty.

While birth

plods into life

with sloppy

inaccuracy,

tumbling incoherently

through thick,

sticky afterbirth,

shackled to incomprehension.

Still,

we guess birth

to be miraculous

while it’s endgame,

death

is reviewed as a misfortune

accompanied by a chorus

of “if only’s.”

and the tardy

howls of loss.

But of what good is the marvelous

if you can’t watch?

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