Does it work today?
Does it, because the reserve
Just about made do yesterday,
When pressed, managing
To resist the temptations of
My remaining rage.
By the skin of the scum that’s
Holding my teeth in did
I remember what time I had
Left to find a replacement,
Hunting for multiples of whys
And why not’s and
A whole lot of watch
For not much.
I haven’t been to many funerals
Since my father’s,
And there have been a few to mull,
But I cling,
Even as the string
Attaching my limbs
Together stretches
And the strength
In my fingers shrinks,
Though it doesn’t matter
If it passes,
As its seconds
Will be scattered and
Before I become the epitome of a bitter man
I’ll listen to my baby’s heartbeat once again
To keep me ticking over.
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