I long ago committed myself
to this commerce,
selling off tales
of my blue rages,
my gentle red tenderness,
my sightings and songs.
Now I’m a damn rich man.
How did that happen?
I own up to a contempt
for my customers
that shames me.
I’m weary
as any hellion can ever be
of his own mischief.
But I won’t give up a cent,
ever.
Dark Matter 
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