Reply to Oliver Baez Bendorf’s ‘Dysphoria’

malaise

all that there
is when death is in-
volved is a weight. pain

becomes too
heavy to lift: nothing
of fibre relieves. we

become a requiem: livid,
maybe 3 stanzas short in
temper and ill taste. a
threnody to the
persona and the
person that was I. a

song. a note that cuts
out my tongue. words
too tired for use, so

some letters fall
off as shorter words like
i, will, wait. all

that there
is when pain is in-
volved is a wait.

leonell echa