You took my heart,
of course. Salut!
I’m giving my body
to the institution. This anguish

reached no resolution. The ***** –
the only solution. You come
now, shaking and unsteady. But your
aim was plenty ready as

I went down. There will be
no marker for me. My blood is
the ink that you read, drained on every
page. I tried to engage them all with

my lines. But what they wanted was
admittance in the crypt,
a pittance they’ll pay for this
sin. Lucky for me there was

plenty of them to support my
supply. Will you be like Lavinia
and hand over my verse to disperse
when this good earth has ******

my last ***. Don’t bury me
with it. Spread it as you do your seed –
let it drop and plant some trees. This
is my dying wish, to be Heard –
when I leave this earth.