I leave this vessel
for the lowest of the low
not only as a testament
to the act of your human transgression
but also as a tomb,
a tomb for you.
So that when you are near death
your smallness can climb in
through the hole you left
where the spout once was
and lay yourself down
in the vacuous space
and die a thieves death alone,
pitiless, without a single soul
to remember you.
You will take your last breath
void of any true feelings
of love or decency for others.
(A note on an antique in a Michigan store)
Verbatim Poetry 
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