Last Transmission
I imagine my last words would say something
or good night, my kitten[i] probably— possibly
to do with cats like a priest might ask me why
I haven't renounced Satan
like I'd always been in allegiance with him or
something, shove a finger in his concave chest,
shake my head and say now now good man,
this is no time for making enemies.[ii]
Help me for I can't sleep[iii] in this neverland
of yours so chilled by a designated
perhaps, in want of more light[iv] I fall away
on the ground,[v] damn you
I can't take this last great leap
in the dark[vi] without your help—
and if you won't come with me
I guess now I shall go to sleep[vii] though
don't think badly of me when you find out
there's no way for us to go, no
path across the shifting sands[viii] to say
"Goodbye, if we meet—"[ix]
but no, a hand wrenches away the word.
Too soon, I think, what really would
I say to anyone at the end of all things
might have nothing to do with cats
but everything to do with go away, I'm
all right[x] in this place and last
words don't mean anything at all
to a cat, and if you asked one
it would say my death began its walk[xi]
for nine, and for yours and mine
it is all
the same
[i] Ernest Hemingway's purported last words.
[ii] Voltaire's last words.
[iii] J. M. Barrie's last words.
[iv] From Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's last words.
[v] Charles Dickens's last words.
[vi] Thomas Hobbes' last words.
[vii] From Lord Byron's last words.
[viii] From L. Frank Baum's last words.
[ix] Mark Twain's last words.
[x] H. G. Wells' last words.
[xi] From Jean Cocteau's last words.