A Fine Life

by Darryl Price

It's really not too bad. The person

I am was me. We laughed inside

their sacred places at all the monies

well spent. We walked in the gardens

without any shoes on. Not one single

flower seemed to mind. And now it's

a forgotten mess or so I imagine.

I'd rather you think about me

holding hands with you  as we passed

through a blue sky next to some

golden trees. We stood among sunbeams and

closed our eyes and dared to dream.

That's enough to always remember. We sang

musics out of our haunted hearts. We

dressed like we were celebrating all beings

in heaven and earth. It took a

little while, that's all, to make it

to the light. It's a fine life.

You're never a regret. If anything

you're the lucky answer to the prayers

I found myself mouthing through my paper

bag. I wasn't always thinking, but looking

for the starlight in your eyes. I

don't want you to worry. I took

as many steps as I could toward

my own happiness with you. This is

just my stop. I'll never forget this

life of a poet, the words will

see to it. That's the point. I

wasn't joking. The sun also rises. I

get it. But it was our time.

We took it and it took us

away. We wanted it to. That's what

we came for. I can't pretend.  We

followed a path we had taken to

its end. How many can say that?

My heart is free. Don't let yours

come undone. You'll be all right; I'll

bet there's always a star to guide

you. I'm glad because you were always

so bright nearby for me. I don't know what

any of that means besides good good love. 

Bonus poem:

An Understanding of Bees(first draft)

by Darryl Price


All my words are lonely, are nearly departed,

Visible only from the ankles down, nonchalant. I

Get bored. All my words are not paying that

Much attention to television. I get distracted. All


My words, coincidental though they may seem, are

Like any ordinary, nasty scar—sad-looking, sensitive, and

Deep, but who cares, right? It's all blah,

Blah, blah. Useless information. All my words are


Perfect examples of thinking of you and not

Complying with the rules of engagement at all.

Bad, bad, bad poet. All my words are

Being completely torn off from the cuff, broken into,


Ringing, hungry parts, and strewn out across a

Heart-shaped field like the stars that silently surround

Us. All my words are another living creature

Altogether. And, yes, all my words disappear under


The water that is your person like so

Many bonny swans looking for some tasty treats in

The swirling expressions of your dancing falls. Insert

Any word you'd like. It all applies. All


My words are like a small cake. I'm

Not like everybody else-- in this regard-- but

I'm not sure any of it matters. All

My words repeat the same question. Wouldn't mind


Helping me out here a little, would you? All my

Words have run off into the sunset.  All

My words cough politely. All my words create

A vacuum. All my words, in between small breaths,


Are too complicated to explain themselves to the impatient

Jury. All my words spin around like out of orbit satellites.

All my words are mortal people. All my words

Are crammed onto these few pages like ants.