Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Ungatz

  

I lie awake at night reliving my owner’s manual to 

misery and her accompanying atlas of despair; my

destiny is an ending and narrowing cul-de-sac of 

nothingness, to fathom anything more from my birth,

whence all trouble came, is passing fiction as truth and lies

as certitude, death is unforgiving and death always wins, debtors take

heed in her odds, she never pays off on any wagers, you can’t pay off

any corpus delicti or stiff, man is born unto death, yet, death is patient 

as gnawing worms, the nights are reminiscent and loud with memories of 

youthful sprees and contemporaries, my passion is listening to old Classical, 

Blues, Jazz, and Latin albums of my collection, and understanding the genius 

in everything bound to our ears, prisoners to this earth and freedom are death, are

Are you in or are you out? 

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  Herding Cretan milk goats and chanting Greek verses  to poly gods, writers ascribe  to the pastoral hymns of sorrow where time’s the thief...