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FROM THE MULTI-POLAR MIND OF A RECOVERING EX-USER

not poetry, not purposeful, not pretending









...

Friday 9 December 2011

Already know

Death hangs ahead of me
Like some grisly crow
Waiting for the end of the show
Stating what we all already know

Death stinks of rotten flesh
Cries like a strangled bird
Never going to say a single word
Stating what we all already know

6 comments:

  1. Death - Destiny's child plays his game, curls a finger to beckon the mortal vessel - "Come in number 6...."

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  2. Number 6 streches, and becomes a line. The line shrinks and becomes a dot. The dot implodes.

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  3. OMG why do folks who fuck up on drugs always think they got something artistic to tell the world? Just put on the noose, jump off of the chair, and make the world a better place, you peice of worthless shit

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  4. Ann, thanks for your interesting advice, which I promise to pass on to other drugs users the next time I bump into them. On a technical point, I was anticipating that the looming matter of self-elimination would involve overdose on a combination of opiate and sedative drugs - but lets not quibble about details. See you in Cannes?

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  5. lv ya poetry

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