I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT
AND HOPED
I’D GO OUT WITH A FLOURISH
WAVE MY WHITE PLUME
DISMISSIVELY AT DEATH
AND BE GONE
PERHAPS WITH SOMETHING
DRAMATIC ON MY LIPS
IT’S THE WAY ACTORS DIE
BUT LATELY
IT’S BECOMING MORE OBVIOUS
I’M GOING
MORE LIKE AN APPLE
LEFT ON A TREE
AFTER PICKING
LEFT TO GO BROWN
AND WRINKLED
OH LACKADAY AND FORSOOTH
I REMEMBER
A BUNCH
OF POOR HUNGRY BOYS
AMONG THEM ME
WHO FOUND SUCH APPLES
AND THOUGHT THEM
AMBROSIA
PERHAPS MY DEMISE
MAY BE
BIGGER THAN A HERO’S
FLOURISH AT DEFEAT
A BOY’S BITE
AN EMPTY BELLY
FRANK A VOLLMER
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