as patchen says:
there's so many little dyings,
it doesn't matter
which one is death.

and since each dying
is a death,
we morph into
an ubermensch,
disguised as life's
brouhaha itself.

all the while
life's phases and stages
inchoate, yet entirely composed
of the crusty shells
of earlier deaths,
leave one worn
and frayed to
the the future
which is now.

still we mark our
territory, thinking
that it will
make a difference.

11/03/2005