I’m sure from the outside It looks like a life Even a good life A productive life An interesting life Especially for my age . . . From the inside It sometimes feels like a sham Like a pretend life Like a child’s life A child still knocking on the door Its fists are sore Hawking died last week The body that housed his brain stopped pulsing I suppose I thought he would live forever Since he already had The radiant energy That lifted him softly Going gently From that good life Proving brains are sexy Provincetown, MA March 14, 2018
Hiding Out