Infinite. Eternal. Whatever.
We can start if you like.
Talk a walk.
Order in lunch.
Start a diary.
I mean … start a
manly, map journal
with rocks, blood, and sticks
and moss or rabbit fur for
staunching
the flow, while
diagramming this
bleeding life.
I’m quite sure I,
that is, I, will not,
will not, make it to the end
of the tallied totals.
Infinite. Eternal.
You might not
be there
any way.
And … I’ve already
seen … some of the
credits ... rolling.
Otherwise,
No comment.
Call my office.
..
…
©
Poem
DLWhite
January 3, 2024
4:29 pm
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