there’s a place where folk go
pre-death but post-life.
where they’ve ceased any hope
of home brewing their beer
and they sit around staring
instead of laughing with cheer.

this place ain’t called limbo
or purga-tor-amy or anything
special, like southern miami.

they just give up on life but
from fear keep moving through it.
hoping someday more money
or a bigger car will better fit.

but the truth is
what they’er seeking
is long gone by now.

they gave it up.
turned their back.
forgot to ‘wow’.