The Last Ditch (Poetry)

New regulations — it’s now law —
we all know what we’re in here for —
a period of cooling off —
compare our options (none are soft)
we have one chance to change our minds
and gamble — see what Fate unwinds.

Each tether’s frayed — we’re at the end —
no job — no roof — no hope — no friend —
the world we knew has passed away
and can’t be saved — the papers say
our culture’s shot — the end is nigh —
we’re headed for the long goodbye.

When push at last has come to shove
we find we cannot live on love
and faith has worn so painful thin
(no clichéd pot to piddle in)
we sit in the last ditch café
and dream the dregs of life away.

A camp for suicidal souls
who play true Oscar-winning rôles —
no retakes as they find their mark
and plunge offstage into the dark
addlibbing madly — praying odds
will find them favour with the gods.