So this deal happened
a few years ago one morning
when I was up bumbling around
hungover and slurping coffee

I saw on tv
the big building
on fire
and they were saying something about
a plane crash,

which didn't surprise me,
since I knew them towers
were pretty high.

And as I sipped coffee
and watched,
I saw this other plane
fly into
the other tower,

and I thought how absolutely incredible it was
that in a single day
the same accident
could happen
twice like that.

I mean, the odds against
were simply astounding
and the fact it did indeed happen
proved how crazy bizarre
life can be.

Then the towers came down
and the dirt cloud wall
filled Manhattan
and they figured out
what was really up,

though it still took awhile
to soak into this thick skull.

Later that day
as I looked at the huge blank sky
I realized
deep down in the gut
how, with what happened
that day,
everything in the universe
had changed
and nothing
anymore
would
be the same
again.

There were three contrails
above my head driving home
that afternoon,
and you could tell
whoever it was
had been flying real real low.

Everything else
was gorgeous
deep royal blue.

We watched tv pretty much around the clock
for the next month or so,
seeing again and again
those guys jumping out windows

and everyone who could
run from the inconceivable horror
their lives had become.

Since then
and though I suppose
it's all understandable,
we ultimately missed
an opportunity,

slipping back instead
to angry denial
about the reality
of transitory life,

Which is why
the whole thing now
is just
bad bad people
who need to die

and the shopping mall
they're going to fill
the hole in the ground with

where a part
of each of us
now lies.