Happiness Is A Logical Song
Sir, said the robin,
when I thought
I was dying
and saw that
I wasn’t,
I felt
impossibly
light and
happy.
Exhilarated,
really.
Well, Sir said.
Don’t tell anyone.
Living is dying
and it isn’t
discussed.
It’s perfectly
normal
and you’re
very lucky,
and who will
be coming
for you?
Am I? Are we?
Knowing I’ll live
is the same
as any other time
that I didn’t think
I was surely dying
(as I wasn’t goodbyeing
and am not still),
so why can’t I —
why can’t we —
feel like that
all the time?
