the secret to a happy life

what we

don't keep in mind,

always, or nearly always

is that in a hundred

years

from now,

all of us will be dead,

and all

this worrying and wringing

of hands

about everything

will be worthless consternation

that keeps

us from being happy,

or able to sleep at night.

all the mind games,

the regrets and remorse will

be nothing but

thin air,

less than thin air.

the constant rehashing of relationships

gone south,

the endless concern

about so many

minute things will be dust.

words said, or unsaid,

money, love, sex, death.

everything that makes our eyes

twitch,

our hair thin,

and the ulcers grow

will be gone.

all of who we are,

will mean

zippo

to the next crowd that takes

our place.

so as my good friend

Vinnie in the Bronx,

with a cigarette behind his ear,

used to say to me as we stood

out on the street corner

on a cold windy day,

just forget about it. 

forget about it.