yuletide junkie

‘tis the season
bargain,
pleading
with dawn
still, long off
but
date change
just got away
minutes before-

door,
elevator,
door-

seconds before-

crash
or, flop
down he goes
sweat, drove out
and cold
rosy cheeks
ain’t about…

blue,
they be
eyes tight
closed
and concise,
pinpoint
to be professional
(with vernacular)
heart attack, nay,
arrest, nearly
non-respired
decay-

done
took too much
way…
too…
much…

‘please’
called the man
one leg,
and pale,
‘don’t let
my boy
die’

not tonight,
sir,
mortality fails
for now,
and frees the
patient,
to live,
to be,
another day-
a slave

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