I LOOK AT THE FUTURE

Death is a tireless worker,

filling his daily quota.

He never pauses to rest

or stop, like an uneasy student

trying to pass a mathematics test.

When he comes for me,

I’ll finally know what aroma

a star emits, entering eternity.

I’m a supplicant in the

waiting room of that star.

I know nothing.

I’m as ignorant as an old cat

with one life remaining.

As the cosmos spins

like a balloon filled with helium,

I walk into the future

like a rat in a maze,

with the mind of a grammarian.