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Merrys Last Gleanings , by
New York, NY US
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Merrys Last Gleanings
I want to lay my head across your chest
To hear your heart beat
To know you are still alive.
But your chest and its heart are now gray ash
Dry as ancient bedrock
Where oceans of tears once flowed under the light
Of the lamp that sat on your night stand
And the flicker of the television set.
You were never going to live behind the heavy metal door.
Did I say live?
There is no life in the wards
only the cold and pale skin of existing.
You were never again going to stumble in that blue gown
with the tag around your wrist.
Did the Christ born of the needles prick grow impotent?
To no longer answer your prayers which came in like radio static
or to save you from the waters of the gray sea
before the sedative found its mark
which cast you into the dreams of someone who finds a natural home
in states of emergency?
Your voice should have been a radio.
Then you could have turned to the right station
and found the Rock N Roll of the heart.
I would like to put the moisture
back into the earth that was your body.
Not with water but with coffee
Black of course.
Any source of life should be uncut
by milk or water.
Then perhaps the serrated edges of your words
will no longer be dulled.
Bitterness does become a swollen
gland if left untreated.
That is why Im writing you this letter
At 4:45 AM
after a night of no sleep
after a long string of insomniac nights
to let you know that pills could have plugged the broken dam
that carried you away
only to flow into the winter
Where the muted and blind snow weeps silently
Now that youre gone.
This piece is a dedication to a wonderful friend of mine who fell to one last desperate act.
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