No Known Cure

I have been diagnosed with a heart condition:

valves weaker than cheap aquarium tubing,

rhythm patterns orchestrated by strung-out heroin drummers,

blood flow controlled by a pump mined from a landfill.

Back-alley doctors recommend a transplant while misguided friends play roulette for a donor.


I pull the sheets up over my head, content to be a case study in the journals of love.

Copyright 2015





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