War report

laid up with stomach flu
i visualize my body as a corpse

over which that epiphenomenon the soul
rises briefly like a dust devil

while the poor old horse waits
for vultures to carry it aloft

beyond all misery
i visualize my body

as a set of revolving doors
slow and a bit decrepit

through which the universe passes
in all its hurly-burly

doors to a dark metropolis
my microbiome

currently resisting invasion
by some foreign power

nothing is ever pure
everything shines

i am my body visualizing itself
how absurd

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