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The Doctor’s Urn

by: Terrell Jamal Terry

Nose-prints on pages out,
pistol smoke admixed
with bloodied background.
Evidence of university
purchases seem discarded
while asleep. Petrified eyes,
inside day-sight that cannot
see. Had such a discord
poured dark thoughts into
cracks, until eventually he
was pushed on an unsteady
roll without a majority of
purpose? It seems that his
mind’s balanced wave had
gone erratic, as if a forger
sold a stable life for wild
satisfaction at any and all
cost. But blue and red neon
screams and tattered marks
did tell: dead stop of a dated
watch, papers white-lined
lasers, the major threat to
tired eyes. For a finale, he lit
one last fire with loud colors
before cradling down a dark
left turn, leaving a fatherless
daughter of a doctor who
steered silently into distant
sparkling directions, never
speaking a word of his woes.