the unblinking stare upwards
thru the twilight mirrored surface
a breathcatch pause
between the grains of incremental time

what call for time
when breath no longer comes?

why hesitate?
why pause?

remove the shoes... the clothes... the watch...

a first deep breath
and still the hesitation for another...

and then the plunge
into the apnoetic cold

clutch and drag
the lonely greendark shape
back to the surface

drag it back
into the darkening evening air

...breathe...breathe...
...into his mouth...
...somewhere there are bubbles...

ruckles of vomit
issue from his throat

...wipe...and breathe again...

tiers of shadowed outlines
look down at the little stage
from the upper floors of the living

death ends a pulse of youth

johnny is dead

and who can kiss a breathless lip
and grow not older with the touch?



1969nev2006