No amount of ointment
buried in an artifact
from the ancient past
time’s relentless forward motion.
No obscure and ingenious formulation
assembled by a
team of brilliant chemists with a
penchant for innovation
will forestall mortality’s reach.
Molecular biologists and wily botanists
may conspire to unravel
the elusive signature of senescent genes
as they must
ultimately someone will note their noble efforts
when their obituaries are finally written.
Along the inexorable continuum of
the mind may seem less alert,
the body less able to
exercise its powers in
the arenas of art and love and industry.
No amount of artful dodging
or absurd denial
will keep us from our
ultimate and insistent dissolution
into artful and chaotic oblivion.
we should be thankful
for this escape
from a world so plagued
by human endeavor and the
suffering it engenders.
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