The Wound

I keep stabbing
and there's no blood
in the fridge.


napoleon poem - Tolstoy, p 898

Napoleon went to seek repose before the grave.
Napoleon looked at him.

Napoleon frowned, and sat for a long time in silence,
his head in his hand.

Napoleon asked severely.
Napoleon shook his head.

Napoleon was not sleepy, and morning was still far off.
Napoleon ordered another glass.