It can be disputed,
that the dying breath
of man
is composed solely
of flushed, angelic breeze.
It can be disputed,
that such temperate breeze
resembles the joy felt
upon hearing an infant’s first wail.
It has been proven,
that ones last breath
is nothing more
than carbon dioxide
and nutrients, dispelled.
I have seen more death than life.
I embody the bile
rising from the cities sewers.
Vomited,
from the cracked and bleeding mouths
of our forefathers.
The gutters ejaculate, stinging my skin,
pricking, as needles.
No matter how I try,
I cannot be scrubbed clean.
I dispute,
that death is anything pleasant.
For the living.
I have seen more death than life.
And I braid its bony fingers,
within my own.
~ In memory Joseph Jacob
