Epitaph: first draft

Aside from the statutory ton of shit
We leave behind,
And the echo of whatever the hell it was
I was trying to say on this planet,
I want my atoms
To go on making love and trouble
When I die die die.

So here lies R.C.

            Tried to make sense of it all -- couldn't.
            Tried to use the great gift of life -- didn't.
            Tried to love more than himself -- wouldn't.

                                                                             -- Panama, January 22, 2005

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