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I remember the eyes

of a sperm whale as it dived
the hate of being seen

for the murderer it is
and think of the guy

who jumped from the fifth floor
to escape the duns

(he died straightaway they say
or from his injuries after

and he was 33
or 23 or 26 and his name was

somebody's) and the steak
I had last night

was delicious thank you
tasty as a poem

and the remnants
of conscience in my head

squats in its puddle
of ironies, whispering

'Eat, monster, eat'.