If we're only happy
sometimes
are we really
living at all?
If the only time
we find comfort
to smile
is when we're spending
are we really
living at all?
If we can't just
share laughter
in the nothing
spaces in this evening
are we really
living at all?
If we never grow out
of only hunger mood
swings
acting like passive
chimpanzees in summer
are we really
living at all?
If the only time we speak
without scornful ascensions
is to be bitter about debt
payments, reparations,
are we really
living at all?
If the only words we say
stab so sharply like a blade
hurting all the happiness
we save
are we really
living at all?
If it's so hard to sing
or dance this evening
with me
while the rain keeps
pouring deeply sweetly
are we really
living at all?
12.16.23
