The hard dark ground
welcoming him
opens in a jagged crack
like the yawning mouth
of a toothless old pervert

He lies there in the cool
black endlessness
of imaginary peace
like a mist of damp dust
thrown over a muscley shoulder

A thousand years might pass
before anger and loathing
descend entirely out of sight
as flesh consumed in the fiery
and molten core of old earth

12.27.04

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Sometimes, things just won't work the way we want them to.