regard me in a high level of terror
as the hedonist who pulled down the shades
when the enemy stopped to shave,
enthralled by the way the beautiful girl turned
through darkness and water and sand;

regard me as the one who laughed
when the spider caught fire in the radio
and the owl retreated
grabbing mice and bulls and ornaments;

regard me as the one who drank
cigarette butts and played Solitaire with God
as the poison violins floated in the air;

regard me as the one
who made all the astute observations
no one else would
(or were too afraid to);

regard me as the one
who loved as fiercely as he fought.
who paid so much attention
it killed me;

regard me, even as dead, more alive than
many of the living.
and regard me, as i fumble with words,
regard me as nothing.
so we may have peace

and forget i ever happened.