Friday, January 15, 2010


“He used to live
And played guitar
In a shed
10 years playing the same songs”

Maybe in the same place

I remembered his statement
As I moved
Dusty boxes

Looked at unopened
Bank statements

Studied the twisted wires
Of old cell phones

“6 months later
He was a millionaire”

I remembered his words
As I threw the bank correspondence
Into the garbage

He didn’t say
He blew his brains out
With a shotgun
But both of us knew it

I thought of that
When I saw my old canteen
On the dusty floor

I put the waste
In the green garbage can
Then I went inside
To eat some bread

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