My body is dying
Even as it eats the
Pill that keeps tiny
Things from invading.
But we are all dying.

Time seems slow and yet
Gone the way of youth.
I am rushed, wanting now,
I am slowed, being sure.

Soul sorrowful no
Idea why it yearns.
Surely the man don’t
Feed it too much for
It is always seemingly
In such great need.
Like crack to the whore,
Candy to the girl.
It is as base a nature as
It is high an intellect.