Monday, September 1, 2014

Contractual Valentine

Our only natural enemy is death
not counting other humans
and that because illiterate us
couldn’t read the fine print
in the contract we signed
with that itinerant fraudster
the Manhattan of the soul
traded for a few trinkets
will that turn out to be
what it’s worth prescient
as a fairytale our lives re-enact
safe from inside the sarcophagus
first and then from on the moon
our jogging balding gramma
in her nursing home of stars

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