I want to live forever In the days following the flu Beelzebub’s retirement party Paper Mache at the Louvre Clinking cups of earth worn remedy Toasting each new day The moist pink tongue that flicks the air While relishing the taste A zesty little lemon peel Of tough and calloused skin A fragrance underlying Deep lungfulls’. Held in. A little less inebriated Now three bottles on Awoken with an appetite For moving things along The lights are on at One Fifteen Atop a feathered