Here is a crabby little poem dedicated to the dark fleece of my father's jacket as it departs, for once, just after visiting hours.
Among the carcass
of my words.
Do you know this place?
It is the place of my extinction.
I become obsolete
Death ceases to matter
There is too much of it around;
makes no sense
No sense to me
Image: Salvador Dali, Ascension