By  Mike O’Connell

iI am(currently)scanning for
expiration dates on grief and stuff.
they are smudged, unreadable,
not even enough remaining, to guess
what they might be.
There aren’t that many, really.
some have nothing(at all),
to do with people who have
passed, those folks who may be
sickly, or spiritually nullified.
There are some things
in the vault(concepts and bright ideas),
that refuse to fade, or go away.
I don’t know why. I don’t know
why I care. they contribute nothing
to my state of mind, or on my
expectations of the universe,
as a hole(black). I have been told
that there are clues to my own
sell by date, in the furrows of my palm.
this interpretation is usually a variable,
depending on the philosophical
disposition of the person,
fondling your hand.
I shouldn’t treat them,
all the same, even if I see them so,
because they all demand,
different renditions of
how they might affect my fates.
it just might be, good to know,
the suspected dates of my
departures, to make sure that
data stored, is up to date.