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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392529" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>M o r + o g r o p h y</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392529" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Examines their ivory-whites.....for a jaundiced shade of yellow, <br>Sometimes challenging sleep by black joe and sugar cane cubes.<br>Occasionally dabbing the tip of his index finger 'pon rigid thighs, <br>They be the first signs of pre-mature Riga....human ossification.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392529" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">One look thru' his eyes, dead eyes, his tri-pod drags by his side, <br>Immune to the caffeine in his veins, from the natural ice-water, <br>Waiting for the celcius to refrigerate the room with sub-zeroe's, <br>And, procedes to position his queer craft in theatric, erotic style. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392529" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Snap, Snap, a smirk of cynical rush, stretching across his visage. <br>What do you do for a living, asks a child....walking past the room.<br>I take picture's of the sleeping....boy; what's it look like i'm doing? <br>Cold as ice, says the boy......COLD AS DEATH.....chides the man! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392529" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Waiting by the phone for another call with camera, death in hand; <br>And, after all he's not the one who lays the quarters on their Eyes.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Frank+James+Ryan+Jr.">Frank James Ryan Jr.</a></strong></div>