if i die here
please,
i hope it is quick
neat
precision like.
a bullet in a vital spot
would
be
perfect.
i don't want
to be torn apart
mangled
unrecognized.
i don't know why,
i
really
don't.
i just don't want to go
like my friend
went this morning.
no.
please.
not
like
that.
(5-14-1968)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem