verses, inspired by Death be Merciful

dust – pollen.
..in the middle of photo erased face.
marks leftover from fingertips.
from under lowered eyelashes cannot see the face
facial expression… you were saying?
so empty now..forget it , don’t howl
don’t scream. spit it out, throw away
mix with rain and rub it
into the dust – your face
real-unreal, was it? .. what even was it?
sucks. but really.. does not matter now.. emptytalking..
Here it’s chilly autumn, there – late august
and everlasting summer. The rules of epitaph writing
are trash if reading a life like a play, suddenly
pages fall down .. ungatherable – rules are useless
past autumn has a past summer. Don’t you see I am loosing
leaves with trees. Harvest them, put them in a plant study.
You and your fox behaviors.
There is not enough open space for words in this text.
used discarded. words and beading and us
spill into caviar, fingers, eyelashes, tears.
we run away to pieces. Magician was…and
the trick was He talked about the meaning of dreams,
of breaking of now, of verse, of breaking of words, promises, bre-aking
favorite teapot. Ah, and the cowboy was – now no more,
titanic settling to the bottom.for life. It’s A life sentence..
I am letting the words go. Heresy-ology
scientifically moves emotions through blood,
I am letting you go.. parallel worlds-traintracks –
our nerve endings.. tied into the knot .stationary.
like the knotted writing of Indians . Ashes.
Pour some water for me, will you?
do you remember photos? yes? who cares, 
y o u    d i e d