OPTIONAL POETRY

It comes in threes and here’s the third, bad news couched in benign words, no, pareidolia– man in the moon, Jesus in a breadloaf, such a hunger for finding something, anything, even terror. You asked what you should say. Nearby is the country they call life you will know it by its seriousness. Rilke. I don’t know, nor do I want to, really. Give me your hand.