Slouching Toward Nirvana New Poems

<p>in this place</p><p> there are the dead, the deadly and the dying.</p><p> there is the cross, the builders of the cross and the burners of the</p><p> cross.</p><p> the pattern of my life forms like a cheap shadow</p><p> on the wall before me.</p><p> my love</p><p> what is left of it</p><p> now must crawl</p><p> to wherever it can crawl.</p><p> the strongest know that death is </p><p> final</p><p> and the happiest are those gifted with the</p><p> shortest journey.</p>