Dead and gone


I walk outside and find a lizard’s corpse worshiping the eclipse. Then I have this dream of Rimbaud in the shower and pray to the gods to have him appear in my bed, waiting for me to return from the shower. In the bathroom mirror, I examine my chin hairs and contemplate the mole on my cheek. They’re ugly but, it’s me. After degrading myself, I wipe down my feet and throw my hair back, in no orderly fashion. I get out and find it’s not Rimbaud laid on the bed, but him. I spit in his face and backhand his pornographic computer. I tell him to leave and if he doesn’t I will. He pleads it was only the best porn. The brunette kind he knows I like so much and that he was just waiting for me. But none of that matters. Today my soul is for a…

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