Thursday, March 24, 2005

Ode to Albert Camus

He subsided on flowers.
Cloud. Bird. Sun.
He never paid taxes.
Everyone including his mother thought he
was a lazy commie. Once he wasn't.
Anything. Except maybe a poor Socialist.
But he hated funerals. Weddings. Bombs.
Wars. Bankers. And he slept a lot now.
Hoping to quietly pass through death in his
best dreams.


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