The Giants of Don Quixote

There's no wind today
That's the first thing I notice

A dead man
Feels no wind

All the air is--whoooossssssshhhhhh

--Expelled

From the body

Whether the death is real
Or not

I don't know why everybody accepted my death
So readily

No heartbeat?
So what?

Heartbeats
Fade with age

Organs--ssscchlllurrrrpppppppp--seize up
Into themselves
But the mind

The mind--when cultivated
Carries on

Perhaps it carries on past death
Who can say?

All I can say is this--

I became aware
At some point
That people
They
Well
As you get older
They
Hold
Onto
You
And
Suddenly
You're...

You're sort of...

Burdened

Drowning

You're sort of...

Drowning in and because of
People

And when you have things to do
It becomes very
Well
Exhausting

To...

Have to deal with...that

So I faked it

My death

I faked...death

It was...not all that hard

When you're old
People just expect you to die
Sometimes they even wait for it
Anticipate it

Then--'Oh look, it's here--he died'

I thought they'd be surprised
When I pretended to pass away
But no, they accepted it

Maybe they were glad that I finally...

...Slowed down a step

They all said their good-byes
I reached dramatically
Out, out, out

Old, withered, crippled hand
Grasping for life

And then I--conk--passed out
They all left the room
And when the undertaker showed up
I paid him off

And went right back out again
In search of my giants

Wouldn't you know it?
I found them

Once they heard I was dead
They stopped hiding
The cowards

Suddenly there were giants everywhere
But a noticeable lack of windmills

Perhaps that explains
The calm absence of air

I've spent these past few years
Taking down one giant after another
After another

I have to say, Death has been very polite
It's allowed me to finish the task at hand
Before coming
To claim its prize

Even the gracious Lord Himself understands
That a man's life cannot end
In a bed
In rags
With a priest
With pitying friends
With tears and mumbled prayers

And regrets

It has to end fighting
Giants, or otherwise

Mine will end here
In a field
On a cool Fall night
A guitar playing somewhere
The slit belly of a giant
Spilling out slowly into the night

I lay near the giant's mustache
To avoid the blood and bile
But it trickles down to me nonetheless

And every once in awhile
A little cry
Escapes the lips
Of the fallen ogre

I believe him to be the last
But maybe not

A part of me hopes not
A part of me hopes there are more giants out there
For someone else to conquer

Am I happier dying alone
Instead of drowning in all those people
As I did the first time I died?

Ultimately, I can't help but look at it
This way--

I was born alone
With breath
And tears
And blood
And guts

And now I shall die alone
With much of the same
Though this time
None of it is my own
Not even the tears

And there's the guitar
And the night air
Prompting me to sing a sweet song
To the dead beast
Beside me

I'll be joining you soon, my monstrous friend
And I'll die singing

This is the only way to die, you see

Laying next to the obstacle
You finally
Overcame