Even before i knew the word
i pitied adults
my father and mother supporting me
jobs they didn't like
working for people they didn't like
working toward some elusive time
when they wouldn't have to work at all
just bide their time till death
When, in the meantime
everything that could go wrong would
They'd lose their hearing and hair
their vision
things would grow out their butt
or neck, or inside where
you wouldn't know it until too late
while she or he
would lose their physical appeal in umpteen million
creative, derogative ways
till they wouldn't care anymore
And children would come and go
And pets would come and go
And love and desire anda hunger would all come and go
like the sum of all life's wants were fodder
for some cosmically cruel January white sale
leaving one without even the ability
to know when to exit
when knowing when to leave
is perhaps the only thing
worth knowing at all
— Larry Crist