Thursday, June 11, 2009

421. SENT FROM MOURNING

SENT FROM MOURNING
I watched that guy die on his bed -
twisted and taut, sweaty like water. He
simply expired with a twist. It was the
worst thing I ever saw - I couldn't
sleep, I couldn't shake the scene, I
couldn't talk about it.
-
I don't ever want to re-live another scene
like that. Somebody else can do it for me.
Somebody else's father, somebody's mother.
Anything you'd like - uncle, aunt, neighbor, friend.
It wouldn't matter which since the same's coming
to all. Sincerely yours, Armand Mourning.

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