I wish I could tell you all,
and fill this tiny screen, say

everything, leave it right here
on this screen, say it all, and then

never come back, sit on my porch,
strumming a broken guitar,

blowing on a wilted clarinet,
smoking a cheap pipe, never

coming back to your world,
telling you about all there is

on this screen, maybe fill the
screen, but tell you everything

and never come back, walk into
the front of a cement truck doing

seventy, never coming back,
fulfilled that all has been told,

knowing there is nothing left
inside me so I can go meet

that Mac, go away quickly
without a peep of noise, being

empty, never to come back.
Take away the severity

of despair, fill my tank
with the end, shut me down

forever. Let me rest, let
me loose from this agony.

.