Wednesday, August 15, 2012

3842. MOVING DAY

MOVING DAY
Your unwarranted obfuscation only
makes for confusion. I am lined and
weary, and you - I hear - must now
leave home. Thrown out, as it were,
like a badger to the cold. Take down
that cabinet, remove that bedpost, that
chair. All trace of you must disappear.
I am (oh) so sorry and saddened for what
occurred - if Death rides a pale horse,
and if the apocalypse has its swordsmen,
what's left, and what have you or I? Nothing;
nothing but these pennies, excuses, and lies.

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