mi morte, mia maxima morte (My death is the greatest reward of death)

I came across this title though serendipity. Through screwing around with Latin, basically. I have a passion for dead languages and peoples.


Living people? Not so much.
So first I must offer an apology. Last weekend I was a total dick to some people. I cannot argue my cause on this. I offer you each 5 karma coins from my diminishing reserves. (Please wash hands after handling.)

Next I should offer condolences to my fellow living dead. #Soz and #whatevs you guys. #luvs ;)

Okay, admin taken care of, let us progress to the meat of the matter:

A poem (first in a while)
by a [former, not quite] [buffalo] soldier
(trying to rip off Elliot)

"We'll no longer yearn
To be brothers in arms" -Dire Straits

"Repent" he said,
"Transform" said she
These sallow wraiths of real world
Trying to cluster-fuck me
into normality

I saw my dead comrade
and crying captain
un-men in impotence
in the bush,

This is my time of crisis, blood!
I see the band of brethren distant,
my nostrils flare in an instant
Blood. Blood, blud.

He is perfect, perfectly still
He is dead, so be thy will
I reach behind his head
matted hair and blood, be still


Drag the corpse towards the vehicle
Horror! Do you think he will?
"Inside", I say.
On top, they pray. Voices shrill.

His last ride is atop a Ratel
So off to the awful morgue we go
Where body bag entombs friend-foe
Exposed, inured, immortal

Metallic blood, I taste you.