quietly on the B train
perfecting a test
to determine the date
of my death
pondering
what I would leave behind
a list of curses tucked between my legs
an estrogen resistor monitor
a letter of regret for my vasectomy
my circadian clock and a lock of hair
a strand of my vagus nerve
my skin mummified with old receipts
rather, the human fire
and detritus of ash
should not be stuffed
in an urn, no
brittle bits of bone
should be distributed
in tiny packets, like desiccant
dropped behind the gas station
where I lost my virginity
the Bahai Temple
of my first acid trip
inside a donut in the box of donuts
as a gift to Detective Wroble (may the fat fuck’s prostate wither)
well, this is my final stop,
Ravenswood …shall I fall on the third rail
pray my body’s final journey
be a fiery passage to the stars
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[Accompanying Artwork, titled “Touhy (Whacknut) Dongaggle” is by the Author. Ink and Watercolor, 5″ x 8″, on 140 standard watercolor paper.]
