untitled
I'm dead
don't let me die now
in this era of plague
on the days misting over
the rain comes down softly
melancholy nova
where you can almost taste the life, you could have had
conflicting with the life you wanted
into the desolation shit-storm you got
not strolling through strawberry fields
from penny lane
just walking along syringe strewn lawns
from wine-drunk sidewalks
sixth street