Thursday, October 22, 2009

Ode To My Enemy

So die already. Hurry up
& die. I want
to piss on your grave.
Dancing, with my trousers rolled.

And if you don’t, then may old age be unkind
to you. May doctors butcher your prostate
and polyps the size of footballs take root
in your colon. May you suffer
the indignities of the bathroom.
May unholy caregivers forget you
In the bathtub, on the toilet.
May they neglect to wipe your ass.
In Florida.

Listen old friend, old bastard
walking your dog with your wife at eventide
We don’t have much time
The world does not have time to hold
My hatred for your bones, your soul.

Go drink my hatred.
May it poison you.
Our lives are short.

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