Apologia.

I fucking apologize for everything, if
I could? I would
assume the burden of blame
for all things
visible and invisible, if
it would make a difference I would say
I am not only sorry, I am

at fault.

Does that help?

That is what
apology means: not
admission of feeling bad. But
admission of culpability. I,
if I could, would assume

that blame,

for the universe.

If I did,

Suppose I did?

Could you forgive me?

Would it matter? Because

I, me, my own self, I never meant
the bad shit to happen
to you!

To you.

To you,

2 ∞.

So, there.

Do you feel better?

Because I tell you,

I do.

Now,

I'm going to go enjoy

some fucking sunsets, some fucking torn, roasted flesh, some fucking nature

red

in tooth, and claw,

some fucking sex.

Some fucking cosmos.

Some fucking wondering, and wanting

what's next.

Oh. Is this a bad universe?

Boo

hoo.

You are incorrect.

You, if you need an apology from anyone,
for this life,

are a defective organism.

You will very soon,

be taken out back and shot,

first one up against the wall! In the revolution, if that
is any honor, and I

will apologize.

Oh yes, please

leave the speeches to me.