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Showing posts from January, 2017

sinking

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Facing a person expiring you see the wisdom of death concentrated like a black pearl, Sink to the bottom of the sea's inky gaze
And pierce your own bubble
Adrift in the slimy weeds like an unsuspecting octopus
It jerks you awake and pulls you open like taffy Freeing you from the easy struggle of too many arms  And the coagulated truths in your over-sized head No longer clear who is rising and who falling Or whether it was kindness or envy to point that out
In either case you’re drinking and drowning And there’s a kind of shame in that as well as the sense that it wasn’t polite to unmoor you Who wanted to be the anchor  And not the tears and arms aflailing
But the dying person always knows better Is wiser, stronger and further along in getting sober Than you are