TWILIGHT
When I am dead and vermicelli, What will be my epitomb? A life measured out in coffee grounds: Incognito ergo sum. Did the angels nobble my blueprint? Was I bond or free?
When I am bonemeal or wurst, Did I bat for Gaia? Or number one? No, I ran short, an artless dodger. If karma collects from atman, When dismembered, if remembered, Blessed or cursed?
Michael Small
July 21, 2002-January 28,
2003 published The Mozzie, vol.12, issue 4, May, 2004