I fear I will die my father's death...
a hard struggling work-a-day life
followed by a long slow dying
where lucidity ebbed and diminished
and deep memory in all joy and rage
spilled out in trance-like laughter
or sudden snipes at long-gone enemies
or face turned to a wall
talking to loved ones in fragments
of some phantom dialogue...
the call one 5 am announcing his release
was by then more blessing than grief
for the whole family but I fear of all my father gave me
his way of dying may sadly be the legacy
that most manifests in my own passing...
the breaking connections of intent and action
the simplest assent or most complicated denial
hurtings practically prehistoric surging fresh
and staring too at some middle distance
at the signal of some long unheard song or thing said
I cannot know for sure being so busy with my own daily deaths
but whatever comes after...whatever the actuality is...
all deaths are one...all our deaths are one....
Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
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