my excitement is wasting
as if a fuse is lit right in my bedroom.
i am soaked.
the old poems i read are at my throat
and nothing is resolved
all dead
all dead
hear ye, hear ye
all dead.
i know not the streets of my youth,
of my senility.
but here and now resides no hope
and someone said
through me you pass
into eternal pain.
lies, i tell ya! all lies!
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