THIS IS A POEM ABOUT MY AUTOPSY 7.20.17

7.20.17

hollow is my brain.

when i die they will

cut me open and say

my god, what an emptiness

we’ve found.

how did this man exist

with nothing in his head

but junk, no heart, no guts,

and balls the size of marbles?

janet, the coroner will say.

janet come here.

yes?

would you sleep with this man, janet?

now?

not now. when he was alive.

hm, janet will say. i suppose i would.

why?

because everything is worth doing

once.


Written at 5:14 in the afternoon, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA. 

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