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Seneca, My Existential Detective

you're sleeping with ghosts and kissing
your pillow. lifing one finger to signal,
dear, Seneca for just one more round.

she says, 'life is a quality,
not a quantity. no man can lose
very much, when only a driblet remains.'

but diet pills blur, with whiskey swills
and you cough up a lung.
and spit it right out.

saying, 'what's breathing for me,
well, it ain't breathing no more.'

User Rating: 3,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

The rhythm of the first two stanzas is tight. 'you're sleeping with ghosts and kissing / your pillow. lifting one finger to signal, ' especially. I have a question about the third stanza, which loses a little momentum for me - I'll try to send you a poemhunter email. I love the last stanza - it catches.