With a somber rhythm of a hemophilic heart

In transient acts of quiet desperation

Through the blinding darkness of false hope

I make a pitiful quest for immortality


Will my fading voice be heard

Over the mastication of my rotting flesh

Beyond the witnessing specters

Above the din of billions of competing voices


Will I create a grand singular arrangement of language

Producing images never before imagined

To be exalted by the multitudes with parallel dreams

Echoing throughout all the ages of mankind
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I highly doubt it
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Just forget I said anything
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And, yes
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Previous attempts at the perpetuation

Of my unique arrangement of amino acids

An immortality of sorts

Were met with sheer spermicidal latex

Early withdrawal

The violence of sterile vacuum tubes

And

Of course

The word

No
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Which in all probability

IS

The answer to the previous questions
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Damn ego
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© 2004 by steve giacomini