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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