When I die, I will See a door, The hinges connected to… strange… The knob is a deep rustic brass and I grab, The ticks beneath the slow turn tell me that it's been some time since anyone has opened it; I don't fiddle, although time feels both to be speeding around and oozing slowly … Continue reading Thoughts on Death
Tag: death
Twenty-four (or “Twenty-three Revisited”)
Twenty-four. Twenty-three. He's the age of the pendulum. Adding slowly to the pile of years, he counts. Looking up from dusty cities with lamb-path streets, and following lonely roads to ice-coated highways and cities locked in pride of place. Twenty-three looks for the stupidity in his "wisdom," he looks for the peace in his "rage," … Continue reading Twenty-four (or “Twenty-three Revisited”)
A Scream Echoing from Sleep
When it all comes crashing down, really all comes crashing down, you won't be here. Your son will be in his forties, something will spark and the killing will start, the open forests of our country will darken with blood, small fires will burst from spark, souls will flood abandoned homes they will find their … Continue reading A Scream Echoing from Sleep
Carrots and Such
I am wont To forget the pattern: That those residing in my fridge, Cooling and crisping as they do, Will only see the bright of life, As death comes closer.
Apathy
It is done finished steps have been taken the signatures are signed with pens of hollow souls rolled up dollar bills and one cracked mirror two drops of blood, stretching to reach one another Adam and God sitting on a reflective Sistine Chapel fifteen minutes, sore, broken, dry, wiping away, nothing there, nothing there, nothing, … Continue reading Apathy
