Member Poem

he feels like his heart
is in his mouth
and it is :
he chokes on it
then spits.

on one hand
a phalanx of red ants
on the other
a column of termites
both taking him away
from him
bite bit by bite bit.

the unswaying ceiling of rain
starts swaying
in the train
where he now is
everyone is busy
looking busy :
the seat above him is empty
because no one wants to be near
the puddle of indiscreet excretions
that he now realizes he always was.

when they say all your life flashes
before your eyes
they don’t mention how
it blinds you too.
he falls again
into the ceiling of rain
swaying.

when the seat above is occupied
he knows that he has died
that he has lied
about being cold and empty before
he was truly cold and empty.