There’s a new sort of current that runs through his body,
an electric sort of freedom freshly granted, just weeks ago.

Once, he wrapped up the neurosis, folding with great care.
Firmly closed the heavy parcel & then bidding farewell,

he exhaled the parasitic cancers that only ever sought
to eat him alive & made such honest efforts to survive.

quite ironic: that necrosis dying upon a funeral pyre
& then he cut his hair & never felt lighter

Like he could fly
& he did.

*(high above the ceremonial smoke)