Wednesday, October 17, 2007

five seconds before death

it all smells like a distant abattoir

a syringe boils away in a plastic kettle
we just look at it, all dumbstruck, bored anyway
it's after 3am, and we're still here
still here

but then I'm trying to crawl through
the hole
my hands bleeding
my hair thick with it
coughing it out

with someone bouncing on my chest
a flag waving on a faw away hillside
you just go like that, it seems
you don't see it coming
your head just flips up

and you stare
at some stain on the ceiling
in distant rictus
just like that—dead—that easy
this is the moment

people in the same room
talking about you
like you suddenly weren't there

just a flip and a staring
and a great downward surge
this is what it feels like

a slight regret
that things weren't done a little better
things weren't finished
a gas jet was left on
an animal wasn't fed
a child wasn't held

something tiny
and faint
and fading
and gone

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