When in Doubt …

Spit it out.

Open the door.

Grab its stubbled face and stare it down.

Look away.

Bring it in, give it drinks.

Cover it in chocolate and cream.

Slam the door triumphantly.

Cry poor me, laugh poor you.

Cringe and writhe and apologize, sotto voce.

Sing, weep, Confutatis.

Salute the sun, bathe in the moon.

Bellow naked from the roof clutching crystal and cubes.

Mainline joy and defiance, cut with madness.

Alphabetize, monetize, theorize.

Give it away.

Declaim whyfor, for whom?

Pry the eyes of the sleeping dog, no more lying here.

Find the thread in the center of your palm and pull.

Pinpoint the pain — right there — and speak easy.

Write it down.

Sing again, Lacrimosa.

Praise the little ones, curse the princely palaces and pomp.

Fall to the floor, collect the bits and build.

Dry eyes and lift them, hang them on the light.

Everyone needs a requiem.