Fool, Imbecile, Thinkhole! Poem by Margie Cronin

People can think about you even when they can't see you.
Remember this the next time your cowardice comes
To wind you down.
Upholstery doesn't make you a better person
And you're not at fault because of a soft bloody wart
On a horse.
All nudes are big because our clothes take us away
From the world.
The clothes might just be our bodies stupidly put.
We are like containers for jellyfish and damaging stones.
These thoughts are like all the inhabitants of a big country
Illegally living in a tiny town.
The immigration official calls and calls.
We get scareder and scareder as time runs out.
This is the same time that will reveal both foolishness
And death.
There is a state of enmity that exists forever
Between fear and relief.
Never look to a method if a purpose is already
Jumping up and down with a torchlight
In the toolshed.
Silliness cannot be measured by the use of adjectives
To describe such a state.
Like an emerald
Neither sunshine, shade, nor artificial light has any effect
On its appearance.
You need to be brave despite your guts.
Like a cow with an aneurysm
Or someone the same as an uncle
Each of us is called to his or her own life.
What calls you is the sound of a thought trickling down
Through being.
You're an imbecile if you think that's invented because we
Disappear.
People can think about you even when they can't see you.
Remember this the next time you fall down a very big
Hole.