The younger sibling
casually jokes
if they would throw
a party on Sunday,
the fourth of May:
something happened
a millennium ago…
But the elder’s slow
to pitch a genial riposte.
Yes, he’s happy
as any ordinary bloke,
as sad as any loser
who crumples the lotto ticket
of yesterday’s luck.
But all things considered –
having loved much
& loved in return
by special & common folks –
he finally stammers,
on a suicide bomber mode
why not?
The event is worth
a merry toast:
Life is difficult enough;
why make it harder
as if the apocalypse
were around the corner?

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