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I'm wilting, squeeze
dried in a clinching,
liver spotted vellum grip
youthful glory fading fast
I'd choose barrel, blade, or noose
if I were brave,
but I'd rather cloud-watch
folded in the numb embrace
of a distant sunrise, snow-glow
flakes stinging, clinging,
to finally still my noisy finger-pulse.
After lab coats reveal my visceral secrets,
stitch my jaundiced eyes tight.
My tired gaze is not for seeing.
Stuff my cheeks with wild cotton,
parting lips in a marshmallow smile.
Plant buttercups in my empty skull,
and bury me facing east
until I bloom.
I'm paper, fresh from the ream.
twisted in a spy-glass fist
peering into noon.
finally wise like Socrates,
for there is nothing left to know.
Smile if you're stupid,
laugh if you understand.