I must admit to an existential fatigue

4/5/2023 felt in Spring

The Adventure of 4/4/23
Con/Jur/d, 4/5/2023

I must admit to a certain existential fatigue felt in Spring
best cured through liberal applications of adventuring

It started with an egg like all great human adventures do
and proceeded, in an orderly fashion, to the cemetery

Where I’ve walked a thousand times before and still found
new headstones like Charlie Brown and Cull Alice in Heaven

Speculations abound: What was it like to grow up in a house 
covered with pastel bicycle rims and Lucha Libre flags

Earlier, before we set out, I swear, we had been talking about
the downfall of railways as a sure sign of the Empire’s crumbling

The warnings of shattered crushed bottles strewn betwixt industrial 
ruins and life’s exaltations did not sway my ending choice of beer at

all.

Assays without measure

Much love,

Con/Jur/d, 4/5/2023

PS a gift from Mary a Fellow the First Fae of the Wanderer’s Society:

I said to the devil, "Devil do you like drums?
Do you like cigarettes, dominoes, rum?"
He said only "sundown, Sundays, Christmas"