Of course not

Too much time swimming ’round my big empty brain,
ripe, red corpuscles bleating like sheep on a train
to nowhere, unaware of the scythes and sickles
choking on that sickly hospital death-smell,
still thinking all’s well, well, think again,
those corpuscles scratching and screaming for a way out,
out of luck
out of your mind
out of touch
out of smokes
out of sleepy Midwestern towns where taxes are low
and all the fair-haired schoolchildren grow up to be
fair-haired grownups raising their own fair-haired schoolchildren,
a dream to some, a nightmare to others,
and the end of the road for all,
fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers,
the end of the road for all…

– Kurt Poleet

“Some things in this world just ain’t mean to be, not in the times we want ’em to, and the heart has to hold it in this world as a remembrance, a promise for the world that’s to come. There’s a prize at the end of all of it, but still, that’s a heavy load to bear.” – James McBride, The Good Lord Bird