Death (Part three) Poem
It wears the eyes of being optimistic
In a the restricted library
They expect to live like some monastic
"Don't read beside me, reading is canceled today"
And the blood comes out over the floor every night
Down off the shelves, in streams of clotted language
And you are the person with a towel on hand
You've read every philosophy
Put out in the past year
You should read an entire text
Then you'll understand understand
The utility written beautifully
One peep and we can leave this place
One look at the poetry books
Held up like strange plates
Now it can never be enough
Self-updating digital magazines
Point-score in some perpetual fight
The over-socialised will find time
A slowly be led down to the water
That's were I'll meet you behind the screen
And I don't flinch at animal slaughter
I promise you I am keen, I am keen
But I can't know the simplest things
We can't know what each other's seen on the internet
One night in the dark you asked me to explain
I... I...
You what?