---

Yes that's him.

A man I know well.

Haunted.

Gaunt is he.

Hunchbacked,

joker in silk and velour

Conceals a sunken chest

Curved,

as a damned consumptive's.

Skin and Bones

Skin and Bones

Sails and Masts

Propel his locomotion

Coffee rings and cigarette burns.

All it takes, his memory returns.

Hard at work,

through tedium's gravity.

Hellishly heaviest of weights

to shoulder

then shake off

the close of each day.

I saw him stop

and sway with the wind

to listen for the rolling

of chariot wheels.

Look off at storm clouds

on far out horizons.

Yes, everything's made

to eventually break.

Nothing lasts,

no constants but change.

Foul breath,

betrays vile intentions,

as slogans and sayings

spill from my tired frame.

Yet still his visage returns,

and my pen only produces poison.

Woe!

Misery!

Placate me!

Let this red ink flow

through my fingers

with one intent:

May I expell this influence!

Drain Festering Cyst!