Tag: death and dying poetry

Buying Time

Impossible: To find the cashFor buying time.Oranges, sweet crudeCoffee, corn,Commodities tradersDelisted love and friendship Health and fathers.The buying chits line The exchange floorLike clothing once In the bedroom.Proof money can’t Buy love.In department storesPerfumed and made upClerks compartmentalizeStuffed emotions and Big wide-eyed bearsInto shopping bags. Leaving through A glass revolving door Tumbling onto the gray

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The Little Prince(ss)

I’ve no time for fiction anymore. A folly of a hobby, yet what could taste sweeter than this wasted layer cake? Years and weeks, those larger tenders for anyone with leisure time to spare (How can I afford those considerable denominations, now, anyhow?) Can I recall whose face frowns on the thousand? Whomever, he held

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The Cancer’s Tale

We wait. We Do. All born souls queue Up to ascend where Unknown certainty begins And known uncertainty ends. We sit. In stillness our Hair billowing, bodies Skin covered in ripped sheets The bark on eucalyptus trunks, Bent from blow back towards The earth, arched away from the sea Arms outstretched As if to grab

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