New poetry about choosing to love in the midst of burdensome and inescapable nihilism.
What is a man to do,
When he discovers that he is just worm food on back-order?
Extend his hand in love?
Or concede and die?
When does he know to give up?
What’s a woman to do,
When she discovers that love holds no boundaries
Not on account of its luminescent purity,
But because it’s difficult to find and impossible to teach?
When should she stop searching?
What’s a person to do,
But reach out anyways,
And hope that someone reaches back?
Lest the Universe devour us all.