Don't Kill Yourself Poem by Paul Hoover

Don't kill yourself, Paul.
The world is angry for only a moment
and then it loves you again.
Even its perfect indifference
is love and no love in equal doses.

Don't contemplate some ending
strapped to the hood of a car.
Don't swallow too many donuts.

Stop weeping like an ostrich
and stalking the boundary fences.
Stop batting your eyelashes.

Everyone knows you lost a big one.
Forget about it, my boy.
Everyone loses the big one.
Who do you think you are?

Your life could be a painting,
The Triumph of Inertia.
The shadows flow in the wrong direction,
but the sun is in its sky.

Don't kill yourself with the shovel
We'll have to bury you with.
Don't even look at that gun.

Your babies are still growing.
Don't disappoint them
with the last cliché of your life.
Go play in the sea with your clothes on
or with no clothes, if you wish.

There are plenty of secrets left
to share with perfect strangers.
So live bravely and die exhausted,
both hands in the till.

It's true we remember little
of what you said or did,
but this will improve with time.

Old wine is the best.
The needle will find its thread.