The Last Word - Oct 17 2022

 

The Last Word

Oct 17 2022

The last word,

delivered smugly

before turning abruptly

and exiting the room;

like the metaphorical microphone drop,

as if to declare

argument over

problem resolved.

But sometimes, it's not a word at all.

It can be a glance, a grimace

a gesture of hands,

a telling silence

that look in her eyes.

Or just a pause.

Because you keep coming back to it;

like worry beads

you compulsively finger,

the intrusive thought

the stove's left on

door's unlocked.

You want to put an end to it,

but can't help but feel

there's more to be said.

And then the real last word.

The final parting

when she packed up and left.

The death bed confession

through trembling lips.

The last man on earth

shaking his head.

A scream, a whimper, a rueful regret?

Nothing triumphant there.

Because of the mess

we've made of things.

Because even the sun

will eventually come to an end.

Because nothing is forever.

And then the cacophony

of electronic voices

radiating out into the cosmos

long after we've passed;

incrementally weakening

but never fully gone.

That is, if there's anyone out there

listening in.

An epitaph

to extinct humanity

crackling through space,

until time itself

reaches its end.

Again, I simply chose a phrase/expression/cliche at random, and then riffed; challenging myself to play with it and see where it went.

I think this time, I knew roughly knew what I wanted that to be; the idea of the literal “last” word.

Yes, it's a bleak ending. But is understandable, given my mood and current world view: disgusted with my fellow man; deeply pessimistic; in an existential funk. Because — impressed by our stupidity, greed, denialism, and lack of foresight — I can't help but feel it's an end that may come sooner than we ever imagined!