If probability is metaphysical I will outlive you all not because I enjoy this life much more than you no quite the opposite because I find sorrow at every turn I cannot turn away to look on other spectacles with more appeal knowing full well I hear the call response necessary someone must say what can not be said by others not by politicians nor by news journalists but only by poets
Never will I know joy only fleeting moments always minding the scales as I seek this balance others take for granted safe without deposit the only pleasure known to a man like myself is one found in a book undermined by sibling rivalry someone gains the upper hand and wins relations with family distorted over years resolves between brothers enter resolution talks in a local bar dissolve without focus
Lifting up the casket of my father never happened as his son fails in a timely manner to show up before death to obtain a blessing still a poet transforms when a patriarch falls the pallbearers remain time slips year after year the divide grows wider between brothers whose sins embrace only childhood mishaps strangers beyond youth leaves both still guessing no one harbors ill will but our mother whose scorn cannot hide the dark stain
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