To improvise relevance
When you’ve lost interest in, or faith in,
Or hope for your species
Self-named with no sense of irony
“Wise man”, Homo Sapiens is problematic
Except, today the news
News of the death of a precious fluorescence
In a dull spread opacity of near stagnant water
The death of Vaclav Havel, playwright,
Political prisoner constantly caused with kindness
To lead, of necessity not profession, no place-man,
In deed the right man in place
On the body politic there’s less
Than a hand space for such, and seconds only
Room for any to make a scratch; what good
To scratch water? Still, the memory of a hot bath
Mid hypothermic death is mockery and comfort
Besting mockery alone; screw that
Push hope aside; resolve to die standing
A living fluorescence
If only for the sense of it
The loss of it
The will of it
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