he was descending through the bottle
forgetting why he no longer could remember
he made some lyrics that he sang off key
and he sang them to all of his early selves

the guitar that he imagined he was playing
hit the chords that early mornings made him weep
and he took that for a sign he was still human
or might of been or probably was that day

that he made the choice or did not, it makes no mind,
when he finally saw the end game
when he finally saw the end game
and realised that he had not been chosen

he’d not been chosen first and he’d not been chosen last
for the whirling pickup game of active life
and he remembered and forgot again he’d been that man
who could have done that choosing and he had failed.