I Asked Life What It Meant

She shook her hair back off huge shoulders
and eyed me like I was a danger to humanity,
then she pulled out lipstick and refreshed
her mouth in the event that Mr. Life
came by for a sip.
Who and what and how did not matter,
it seemed, as she pulled out this enormous
pearl handled comb and set to grooming
the world for her arrival. Like a star
a really big star, bigger than Sol, she
was brilliant acting like that.
I spoke soflty without awe or passiveness
to get a clue, but she polished her toes
with death tones and left the earth tones
for nature, her distant nephew. Still,
in her aspect was the glimmer of a total
response: “I am what the Gods left
behind when they passed through here
the last time.”
I figured that was it. Or something
close. Life is God’s left-overs,
the scraps left behind after the
last meal, not even an afterthought,
just a piece of dandruff lost
or a hair released from a different
type of comb.

© allets 2023
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