***
The man wants the man dead
in front of this gate where
an atrocious microbe looks out
for you, they’re kept so well
by Darwin’s son and Freud’s little
girl and you know him so well
that you ignore him bursting
into tears nonetheless he already
works within you within
the diaphanous anthropoid
from down there from the bottommost
part where the dark darkness lies.
If you die from age, woe to your
skin, woe to your time and even if
you’re weeping, you drink the poison
and even if you’re bleeding you feed
the microbe and his bags.
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