My Death?
I went through some very bleak and unhappy times while I was living in Vancouver in the early 90s. Some of that unhappiness and disillusionment came out in poems and songs.
The sea looked cold and blinding
Rushing on and off and in and out
Whitecaps appearing and vanishing
With a stroke of the hand
Inviting me into its depths
To sample its icy fingers
I stood bemuzed, bedazzled on my safe sand
Silty but solid
A seagull shattered the solitude, the silence
With its cacophonous screech
My bubble popped, I was up to my knees already
Stumbling blindly backwards
Clasping handfuls of air to break my imminent fall, in vain
The thud of my rump on the wet sand
Sent shockwaves up my spine and pounded my head
I was fully awake now, sober, feeling foolish
What was I doing, what had I done?
I didn’t care for dry land
I waded out splish-splashing my steps
Under the cool moonlit night
Up to my chest now
I turned and glanced back at the city
Its lights
Its skyscraping monstrocities of concrete and glass
The token trees that lined the boulevard
Symbols of life, perhaps
I thought of the people in clubs
Dancing the night away
And of the old people reading newspapers in bed
Newsprint on their hands
Lukewarm cups of tea on their nightstands
And the whole multitude of ordinary people
Sleeping fitfully with all realms of thought in their minds
Being transformed into better than life dreams
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