Stale air, claustrophobe—
a terrible fit for a coffin,
this person—
he can languish here.
A good warmth, the kind
you feel after bourbon
deep in your chest, yes,
a very good warmth—
the kind you won’t find here.
Here, is where, as gentlemen say,
“the wicked rest”
as there is, indeed,
no such rest for men like that.
I am wicked, I suppose,
wicked in my own way, so
I deserve the test.
I will languish here.
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 11:16 PM UTC
Stale air, claustrophobe—
a terrible fit for a coffin,
this person—
he can languish here.
A good warmth, the kind
you feel after bourbon
deep in your chest, yes,
a very good warmth—
the kind you won’t find here.
Here, is where, as gentlemen say,
“the wicked rest”
as there is, indeed,
no such rest for men like that.
I am wicked, I suppose,
wicked in my own way, so
I deserve the test.
I will languish here.
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