special

the bath
is a real steamer
tonight

sweat rolling
and beading
filling my fingers
with moist ruin

the cheap pulp
warps and
wrinkles and
stains

the eyes burn as
the heart forgets
a beat
now and again

moisture claws
every surface
as
ancient instruments
fart and wheeze
in time

with

the growls and
gurgling of
my traitorous
gut

no one
will care what
i write
100 years
from now

so why do it?

why is there
a last meal on death row?
why is there
chemotherapy and radiation?
why are there
confessionals?

everyone wants to
believe
that they'll be
different

that they're
special

they're not wrong
they are
special
unique
precious
to at least one other
living thing

but being special
doesn't mean
that
you get to miss out
on all the
shit life
brings

especially
at
the end

denial

how do you
begin

to tell
someone
anyone
everyone

that
they are
dying

but the tragedy
is that
they
don't have to

at least
not yet

and
not the way
you see
coming

but

it isn't just them
that's
in danger

it's everyone
and everything
all together

and
in particular

how do you
tell yourself
that
you share
the blame

and
the same
fate

technorati claim

9QUYJZZCN3NK

no haven

a ceiling
painted sky
blue
complete
with white
and gray
clouds

bells ring
without
bell
or
clapper
as if tolling
some departed
soul

cheap electronic
noise
surrounds in
cloying
smothering
falseness

the carpet
clean
the toilets
clean
and
the drinks
shit

people
with blank eyes
fix
their numb gaze
to the glittering
lies
and tap tap tap

until

the machines
grow cold
and
impervious
to desperate
caresses

"hey! want to buy this?
it was a thousand bucks
but you can have it for
only a hundred..."

i turned
and left her to
gnaw off

a

limb

that

wasn't

even

in

the

trap