Fatalism is a strong cup of coffee,
on a day a difficult decision must
be made.
It is a smirk when you've one-
upped a worthy opponent.
It is an orgasm after a night
of debauchery.
It is a stranger with whom
that night was spent.
It is the joy in reality,
because this is it.
It is science
making it real.
It is now,
without pretenses.
It is the flower
that Sartre planted.
It is how we live,
and it is that we will die.
Sherrie KolbCassel
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grabbing-the-brass-ring/
