Surplessary

We’re all of us, more or less,

Like Ingrid of Barrøy, both

Necessary and surplus,

And that’s true for each of you.

It’s a pickle, to be sure.

While you’re here, someone needs you,

Most of your existence, but

Mostly you’re just leftovers.

Once you’re gone, the world goes on,

Without you and without,

Eventually, whoever

It was who once needed you.

You’d go, if you could take you

And anyone who needs you,

Or if no one needed you,

And you know you’re going to go,

Just not on terms that please you.

So what do you do? You go

On being necessary

And surplus, and a nuisance,

While you can, just as we do.