"with john"

old man with sickness
you still fish and show
me how to breathe
you still masturbate
and tell the truth
old soundtracks fill
my dreams of
taiwanese
sleep boats
and your new
animals tell me
that death is nothing
to be afraid of
deterioration
shrinking body
dwindling down like
a dry lake bed
once so full of motion
veins now
turned into dry dust
but you still find
a place
to perform your circus
and i will always buy a ticket