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my fear greater than death –

becoming the picture of mundane

writing the mundane

being only the very epitome

of boring, suburbanality

a string of Taylor Swift poems,

a mall-walking, gray-haired,

broken-down old man

lunching at the closest

cheapest all-you-can-eat buffet

when all I am is no better

than strip mall psychology

or pop culture bullshit

I promise I’ll give it up

not nary a word will

appear anywhere by my hand

once I’ve met this fate

and if I break this promise

someone, please sneak in

and perform the mercy killing


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