Thoughts on solipsism--an appreciation

So there is a moment in Kaufman's Synendoche, New York

That the hero's alter-ego throws himself off the top stage

And dies a horrible death, face down in the fake concrete

Skull crushed to oblivion for nothing more than the love

Of the box office.

Or is it the girl whose name is on your breath?

Or is it the woman whose house burns continually

And kills her, eventually, or the wife whose shower

Runs continually, who is never there for you to clean

But you clean, anyway, and sleep in the walk in

Hoping to avoid the disaster that is imminent

He cries, before he takes his deadly doppleganger plunge

"You don't see other people! You only care about yourself!"

Or something like that.

Where does that take us? What are we to say to such

A suicide plunge?

How do you feel about yourself these days?

Have your noticed skin lesions? Strange moles?

How are your bowel movements?

But it is all fine, because the hero survies

The hero moves on in his existence of me and me

And just a little bit of you

Until the little voice in his ear says

"Die."

So you will die, earpiece in place,

And worms won't even consume

The last little bit of you sealed up

In some steel coffin.

Your pills will take care of the

Consumption

You remain, just as you are

Just as empty

Just as tiny

Just as

Just