Alot Like Never

A pastiche poem by Debbie Frampton and Tim O’Brien
2001

It’s time to be blunt—
Heat up the truth. Make it burn,
get the hell out of the way and let it tell itself
cause here, man, every sin is fresh and original.

None of it happened,
but it was as real as anything.
A kind of falling.
Boom-down.
Higher and higher—The rockets red glare.
Pure knowing.
A lot like yesterday.
A lot like never.

It’s not a game. It’s a form.
A new wrinkle. Fine lines.
And it requires a perfect balance between
crazy and almost crazy—where things come together,
but also separate.
The distinction is important.

There’s a moral here.
There’s a definite moral here.
Once you’re alive, you can’t ever be dead.
And it will always be that way.