Relics
by Steven Queen
i
This is blood, not ink, my blood on this page.
ii
Not to be! No question about it!
iii
I am a nihilistic misanthrope that wants to
make the moon; if I don’t kill me you should.
iv
A cheese grater or the blade?
choices
go jugular or femoral?
choices
Life or Death?
No choice at all
v
If I shot myself in the face
on the wall behind me
would read my epitaph
O sweet love!
O sweet life!
Goodbye
vi
When the day comes, dump my corpse
on a deserted beach to the carrion for
wildlife; my bones will long
outlive my memory of me
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