Propriety Of Fame In A Fossil - Poem by Smoky Hoss
There is no wind here
Just a turning of the air -
The fossil has been formed
By something no longer there.
Lungs inhale, and exhale
Without thought -
Two things: Living and dying
No one needs to be taught.
Billy the Kid and Jesse James
Each killed by a friend -
Fire and dust console one another
In the end.
Legends: Once set in motion
Must leave the body to remain -
Tis merely the ' imprint ' of reality in the fossil
That collects all the world's fame.
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