Simplicity

Grandma said we

Hiccup when someone 

Really close misses

And remembers us.

The spasms of 

Diaphragm or uneven 

Flow of air to lungs 

Doesn't matter to her.

Likewise, to hell with 

Nebula, supernova or

Any of those 

Star-forming events.

She says, whenever

A loved one dies,

They appear in the

Sky as stars.

Now that she's dead

And I sulk on this

Terrace alone with

A beer in hand..

Looking up at the

Night sky at the

Stroke of midnight.

I wish, my fucked up

Life could cascade 

Down a little to that

Level of simplicity.

So that I could believe,

In the possibility that

The twinkling of the

Star in west-horizon,

Is because of

My dead grandma's

Hiccups.