I laugh while drowning my children.
I am sad while I laugh - this makes me complex.
I whistle while I slash the sack of plaster of paris -
it woofs into the jacuzzi, and I am able
to admire the purling white mist
while I position the wet cadavers
into a pleasing diorama.
I appreciate each moment, even as I run
through frozen alleys to evade the authorities.
I slash my calf on a stranger's cold frame
while looking into the clouds,
wondering at a sun pillar.
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