These are all things that affect the living of people.
That is why they’re targeted, you see.

Look into the sky for me. Look at the clouds
at the drifting golden light
the molten wishes placed in stars
and the boiling hope in the air–
and look to it like you would the curtain
of a particularly important theater.
And they are drawn to the ground
like you are to living well;
the curtain is a calling to finality
as you call to death.

These are all things that affect the living of people.
And they are rarely recognized by them nevertheless.

Because we watch a show for its theatrics
and Romeo is shot stabbed poisoned
Juliet stands in the wing, weeping
Shakespeare is above and below, writing and written:
when the actors stand up on their toes
and dip their nose to the planks of the stage,
we finally are broken from this odd world,
seeing the sun again.

Living immortally. Immortal life*
(*An Oxymoron)
Desolate in fiction. Fictional desolation*
(*Sadomasochistic hope)
Ninety nine years old. Ninety nine plus*
(*A weary path guided by lobsters)

…

Stand up, kid.
It’s time to bow.