Incarcerated by narcissism I breathed my last,
and decayed with the half-life of blood which is said
to be fifty days more or less. Less if you have sickle
cell syndrome which causes for some periodic
intractable pain episodes and pneumonia fierce enough
to strangle a bird in flight. I said no art and let’s be gone,
vault the scree of another aimless mind, run so fast
not even the cowing trains I used to love on a Spanish night
could fill bones that delicate and facile.
July 1, 2013 by m4u
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