your lungs beg for air
“live later”. your life is my prescription.
(Doctor : believe me)
you are not yet posthumus, not yet a human being.
preparation is key.
you must not yet believe fictions, least of all your own.
your time is yet not here – first you must chase the empty train
give up when you are old and greying
laugh at your children when we stop laughing at you
duty is cheap but life costs much
your greatest dreams shall be hooked and dialysed
the tang of ether is better than the wine of life
your hopes belong with varicose ulcers and stained bedsheets
this machine pumps your blood for you – what can be better?
is your heart not rotten?
have your dreams not ripened?
(Doctor : don’t be absurd.)
aged urine sells dirty cheap;
and now we can let your bottled souls go.
thank you for your time. do have a nice day.