POEM TITLE A Ghost Story POEM I learned everything I know About Death From an old man in Blackness on Sea. Drinking my fears by the pint In the Lobster Pot He saw and took Pity on me. Smiling from under A barnacle moustache He told me that Death is only this: A triangle of Authentic Endlessness, Friction, and the Whalesong of Bliss. Having spoken those Mysterious words He rose and Floated away, Flapping his ghostly Fishtail of pearl - I still think of his words To this day.
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