Friday, October 09, 2009

"And behold this day I am going the way of all the earth."

I saw a dead body under a sheet under the wheels of a bus today. Everything was frozen in place and taped-off. I don't know if it was a man or a woman. But it was a dead body and it seemed to resonate like that. With me and with the crowd that had gathered, murmuring.

I crossed the street and wondered about my own death.

Would it come like that? Heavy and unannounced? Will I be under a sheet, under the wheels of a bus someday?

Fuck that. I want to die of a broken heart. I want to die from lack of love, or maybe too much love. I can never decide. Both can kill a man, you know.
But I want to die with love on my lips and want in my heart.
I want to croak your name with my last breath and reach into a dream.

My possessions scattered and none.
My legacy but a wave. In and out. Not the water at all.

I am drinking to you and also to me. With this small glass.

I love you, and if you want to kill me, please don't use a bus.
Under the wheels? Under a sheet?
Already we are sheeted, under the meat-wheels of conception.

Make it at least, and also, original.


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