He has been a dying man <br />all his life. Small beasts <br />gnaw at his liver, at the <br />marvelous darkness of his heart, <br />and the beautiful emptiness <br />of his eyes. <br /> <br /> <br />His mind is full of <br />imaginary castles where <br />panic and cunning copulate <br />in an anguished fervor. <br /> <br /> <br />He softly begins chanting <br />Hare Krishna as he bandages <br />his stigmata. He pauses <br />o gaze out the window, <br />over the edge of death, <br /> <br /> <br />and wonders how he can possibly <br />undo the prayers of his childhood.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-for-leon-czolgosz/
