Drunk watchman

Gladly you lived and gladly you die,
As an old poet’s ghost would verse,
And have it graved on your marble,
Here lay the liver royally fucked up.

Someone had fucked you into being.
You were no less to blame for a liver
Now living in its state of drowsiness.
Gladly you lived ,now gladly you die.

( with echoes from R.L. Stevenson’s poem “Requiem” and Phillip Larkin’s poem “This Be The Verse”-)

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