| Dying On Cue |
|---|
| I crumble pointed edges |
| Between my finger tips |
| Just under the nails |
| As they begin to bleed |
| It’s stamped red dots in two sequences of five |
| And I let it go |
| Falling into the wastebasket |
| It is empty in front of the museum |
| I walk where history |
| Is stored when forgotten |
