My twin brother Marshall once joked

Mitchell more funny than me

It makes me crack up to this day

And fills my old sad heart with glee


My younger twin brother once joshed

Mitchell more funny than me

It makes me recall with a smile

His last Baloo Bear jamboree

There is no god

God is not real

It's all a fraud

A backroom deal


There is no god

God has no plan

It's all made up

A bogeyman


There is no god

God is a lie

It's all a farce

Pie in the sky


There is no god

God has no plan

It's make-believe

As Peter Pan

I was addicted to orgasm for most of my life

Tortured by an unfillable black hole of worthlessness

Somewhere along the way the wiring in my brain got crossed

Putting me in a constant yo-yo state of mirthlessness


I was dependent on jerking off from an early age

Hooked on the transcendental stimulus of the big O

Somewhere along the way my on-and-off switch got frazzled

Leaving me in a place of never being in the know


I was strung out on self-stimulation for a lifetime

Caught in a sadomasochistic pleasure trap of pain

Somewhere along the way I went missing in a wet dream

Consuming me like tears lost in an everlasting rain

Here we are still with the living

Still thinking and taking in air

Old men hanging on for dear life

With others around who still care


Here we are still on the planet

Still loving and trying to thrive

Life forms growing old and infirm

With do-or-die wills to survive

Unsurmountable but true

Life is truth, death is truthless

There is nothing we can do

Life is meek, death is ruthless


Unconceivable but true

Life is short, death is longer

There is no chance of a coup

Life is weak, death is stronger


Unbelievable but true

Life is hope, death is hopeless

Giveaways out of the blue

Life is chic, death is noteless

Put 'em in a doomy dungeon

Deep down in the cold damp darkness

Lock 'em up in a frightful place

Rotting in pure evil starkness


Make 'em suffer chain gang torment

Way down in the pit of despair

Bind 'em to torture devices

Feeling what it's like not to care

The founding fathers attempted to make the system sound

But George Orwell found a weakness in their Animal Farm

For greedy bastards will always try to be more equal

Representative democracy is their lucky charm


The founding fathers are now rolling over in their graves

For what is happening in America is insane

The multibillionaires have taken over the farmland

And the best way to stop them is a bullet to their brain

The drum roll claps out of the blue

Like thunderbolts on distant shores

The time has come to say goodbye

The calling card both mine and yours


The drum beat booms nightmarishly

Like rumblings hurled by Grecian gods

The time has come to bid farewell

For mortals cannot beat the odds


The paradiddle calls finis

Like last rim shots upon the snare

The time has come to let it go

The life as twins we got to share

When the grim reaper roars my name

As shocking as that truth may come

The last thought in my baffled brain

Will be of you my twinly chum


When the pale horseman howls at me

As jolting as that whinny sounds

The last thought in my hopeful head

Will be of your sweet princely crowns


When the hard bone collector calls

As ghastly as that knell may loom

The last thought in my dumbstruck mind

Will be of us from womb to tomb

We are still here

Still in the hunt

But near the end

To be quite blunt


We are still here

Not dead twins yet

But not much time

To strut and fret


We are still here

Still in the game

But soon must go

To whence we came

Here is what's going to happen

You come into this world unclad

At risk and small and softheaded

But not alone

Not as a twin

You're stark naked but with someone

A DNA identical

Right there in the womb for nine months

Feeding off the same placenta


This is what's going to happen

You grow up and old together

Brashly cute and codependent

But not solo

Not on your own

You're well-dressed but in deep water

Clones of modus operandi

Right here for sixty-five plus years

Heading to the same old brick wall

There will be no indelible headstones for us

For the likes of us as our father used to say

Our Asian wives will have our bodies burned

Then scatter the ashes to send us on our way


I'll ask my wife to pour me into the sea

Perhaps your wife will plant you in the yard

Our dusty atoms tossed with no trace

Hats off to the twin who plays the last card

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