I’ve Got One Reason to Live and It Involves ( )

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“In the Tibetan philosophy, Sylvia Plath sense of the word. I know we’re all dying. But you’re not dying the way Chloe back there is dying.”
-Fight Club

Pinched inside his lip
Near what teeth remained-
Was the tattoo
Of a syringe.

When the police arrived
Officer Ted lifted
The dumpster lid,
He shivered as rusted hinges
Squealed.

Later he stared at the cadaver
Laid clean of vomit on the dissection table.
Its ceramic skin shimmered
Under florescent lights
And it reminded him of the good china
His family used
On

Thanksgiving
& Christmas.

The pathologist
Informed Officer Ted
Of the tattoo.

Somehow
The knowledge
Of autographed lips
Felt like guidance.

He thought,
“Death doesn’t ratify sin
It just stops it.”

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