Immunity

Passed by a hearse and a baby stroller
In the course of a single morning
And remembered even the bravest high-roller
Ends in a state of mourning.

Waking up is a gamble,
Staying asleep is a missed opportunity
Albeit also a chance to miss your heart ramble
About its longing for emotional immunity.

Ambulance sirens stir up jealousy and pity,
Impatience and a sudden urge to slow down
Until some plague attacks the city
And puts most of us six feet underground.

Want to know what’s on the last page
And whether or not it can be altered
Once we arrive at the twilight stage
And find our foolishness has finally faltered.

But the faceless wood of the hearse
And the solar smile of the baby
Insisted that things are only as worse
As our refusal to say yes to maybe.

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