A NEW POEM: The Only Truth in Life is Lines


THE ONLY TRUTH IN LIFE IS LINES

 

The only truth in life is lines.

Lines to pay for groceries.

Lines to get on a bus.

Lines to buy a ticket for a movie.

Lines to listen to a customer service representative.

Lines to order a double latte, almond milk, half decaf, triple foam.

Lines to pick it up.

 

Little lines, long lines.

Lines of lethargy and lines of enthusiasm.

Lines of dullness, lines of ecstasy.

Lines of impatience and lines of Zen.

Lifelines and deadlines.

 

Lines of poetry.

 

When we are born,

We enter a line leading to an amusement park ride that we dread to board.

A line we can’t leave or allow someone to save our spot for us.

Though we can let people cut in.

 

And we even pay for the privilege.

 

All we can do is stop and look around a moment.

Hear the brash beauty of a carousel pipe organ.

See a child’s happy, frightened smile on a merry-go-round.

Smell the rich pungence of boiling hot dogs.

Touch the tender rough cloth of a clown’s costume.

Taste the brittle sweetness of kettle corn.

 

All recorded in pictures you have to purchase in order to remember what you did.

 

But we cannot pause too long.

If we do, then the person lined up behind us will poke us in the back

And point ahead,

Telling us we can move up and fill in a gap.

 

And so we do.