Obituary of a Successful Man James Zimmerman ate his morning standing up in the dewy breath of dawn read his bitter coffee black in headlines of the day ahead hand on the prize, he always said eye to the wheel, ear to the drumbeat, every footfall lined in gold survived by his loving trust account, beloved luxury sedan, faithful handmade suits, vintage wines mansion on the water and when the earth turned inward on itself, rolling up its carpet at the end of days he only saw the sun drop into black of night never felt the fire behind the map of stars pinholes where the brilliant light beyond is shining through

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