5.14.010
Last night a blinking red traffic light came before me in a dream and told me
that I was gonna die one month before my ninety-ninth birthday.
It even asked me if I was okay with the fact.
All I know is that my sleep is so lonely
& that pulsing crimson bastard reminded me of some weird torture -
like being tied to a board.
The rest is just details.
Painful details all so bloody and violent
like let downs shot straight into the vein.
Doomed to ninety-nine?
No -
that's like you're saying you're condemned to life.
So bring it harder.
It's gonna take more than ten tanks to kill this
beautiful monster.
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