he flounced about in crazy
like a two-dollar whore at the local holiday inn
on prom night
collecting change for Super Crack Wednesday
He gave a f**k
about paydays or bank accounts,
investments or futures
he gave a f**k
only so far as it fed the demons
and he was none the worse for it
turning gnarled and disfigured
riddled
by the gapping
oozing
wounds
that were the stigmata of his disease
it was all
just a surface decoration
merely a prelude
for those that would be damned
Monday, November 14, 2011
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