Interview with an Immortal
I don’t live the finite life, but life revived
within each mind. I’m not a mind, like the kind
I entertain; but when we meet, we share
a brain, where I’m alive, but not contained.
My planet is an active mind, aroused
through time; an ageless host, I know, but note:
parasites don’t enrich a life; I give
back what time invests. Though I have no flesh,
I have a form, and a depth; I just need
a being to give me being. When it leaves,
My end is not a death; just a break between
the lives that give me mine. From a line
my life extends, pulled by needle through each head,
and hurts: Sublime—suturing immortal life.
Copyright © by Kevan Copeland
This poem appeared previously on the Very Nice, Very Nice blog under the pseudonym Anthony Zanetti.