a distinctly ghoulish cry

of a pained dumbwaiter, 

held on high

Pushkin-backed

mournful howls

as I echo thru

a sickly ward

that wears my name: 

flain heroes hung

all the same. 

 

damned .

doomed .

 

drams of oily wick

sweat soaked and

fevered with a caffeine drip

fine-toothed powders, taken softly

solemnly

in the study where I died alone

in that concrete colored house 

in that bridled tomb i called a home .