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3 October 2022

saint nick

 he knows my name        has that much hold over me         my over friendly beggar         my demon in rags       but when the bottle’s passed       I never wipe  the neck     that’s a sign of disrespect      and so the black wine        passes from his lips to mine        and his eyes are night       and his smile is daylight         and he has my undivided   fascination     I’m his puppet        to lead to heaven        to hell        and other places        you can’t find on maps

 and downtown in the killing fields       he makes my ghosts to dance        that old man reeks of corruption       I found him sleeping in fetid leaves            in the woods      in the damp dark season        when decay rules        and everything dies but death     I met him in the pub one night        ladling on the charisma          buying everyone pints        yeah   I know him well     he’s my mentor         my guru     my homeboy          but we were never friends  

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