De /cay series
Unemployed Decay
I licked my soul wounds
they were given to me when I was five, maybe six.

My mind is always fighting
an eternal Atman against an Atman that perishes.

Someone in California told me:
Decay is your greatest assistant.

          I forgot to write Decay’s number down.
Last time I saw him we stared at that dead pelican

On the shore of the beach he held his phone out for light.

The pelican was UN-shaping itself with it's mouth open
Gray fluid trampling down
it’s sides were moving closer to bone.

The flies were painting it's being with years of starvation.  

I prayed for it’s soul.
He prayed for something else.