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The poems

© 2010-2013

alone

I worry that I will die one night
Alone and unobserved
The life will pump out of me
Or worse yet -- my sensibility
And they will find me
Slack and feral
Too late for an angioplasty
Lying helpless
As memories roll by
Like an old-fashioned film

Still, perhaps better than
Burning, drowning, strangling
Disembowelment, decapitation
Or the countless rude ways
We have of departing
Really not so bad, maybe
Quiet … peaceful …
No more ruckus than birth
It’s not as if, most of the time
We get to choose

At least the cats will probably be there ….
Not a bad way to go
With a paw on your arm
And soft purring