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Friday, November 18, 2005

1,001 Shrimp Recipes

Yes, I know we haven't spoken in a week. No, nothing's bothering me. No, it wasn't something you said. No, I'm not PMSing. No, I don't hate you. Yes, I'm still reading your blogs, and no, I haven't quite rid myself of my obsession with death.

Passive-Agressively,



Cindy



Alms

How can I fear you, Death, if
you're just a thing that hungers?

Some threat indeed, you
wretched force of poverty!

How can I fault you for being desirous
when I want things too?

Poor Death;I can only pity a creature
who scavenges for discarded scraps of light,

and dread becomes compassion for one
who must anguish for every single breath.

Surely, I could--for a moment-- choke
in the airless void so that you could fill your lungs.

I can never know your awful craving--
your hands of ash cupped to receive.

But for you, sweet Death, I'd pluck my heart
still beating in its crimson bloom
in exchange for all your riches.

4 Comments:

Blogger Cranky Bastard said...

Riches, indeed. Such a treat it will be to trade all of my "stuff" for the ultimate in luxury: nothingness.

You still got it, gal. Stay spooky.

3:17 PM  
Blogger Cindy St. Onge said...

Hear, hear.
Brad, it's good to hear from you again. Thank you for your kind words, and for sharing my world-weary sentiment.

5:45 PM  
Blogger Queen of the Inane said...

morbid, crrrrrazy, and excellently designed...how could I not love it?

1:35 PM  
Blogger Cindy St. Onge said...

Thank you Hannah! I'm so glad you liked it. I'm thrilled that there are people who can relate to this stuff.

8:03 PM  

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