Four Short Poems
We’ll love one another, or else we’ll all die;
it was Auden who told, then retracted, that lie.
We’ll all die, regardless. All that’s in doubt
is who’ll go before whom, and by which doorway out.
Your doctor says you've reached it,
but you think he's full of crap.
Tomorrow you'll go join a gym.
(Just now you need a nap.)
“How Do I Look?”
She always knew what she should say
but never had the nerve to:
“You look fan-TAS-tic—way, way, way,
way better than you deserve to.”
A Crank Bids the Annoying Optimist Adieu
The best, you always said, was yet to come.
And sure enough: you’re finally dead. Ho-hum.
If you have any comments on these poems, Robert West would be pleased
to hear from you.