Thursday, March 19, 2015

NO BIRTH AND NO DEATH

On a bust
of his ancestor, 
clinging candlelit

bleak above his 
chipped and 
dismal chamber door—

perched 
and spat 
the raven—something rather

a little too grim
and final 
for him 

to handle.
Meanwhile,
unheeded—

silently blared
the somewhat
more helpful

tip at 
the top 
of that—swiftly diminishing 

waxy
alabaster candle—look guys;
it's cool.

I'm fire.

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