on the idea of death

It comes; the tongue would

penetrate, string her up but

never does; rolls instead

the pearl, & lingers there.



The cat, for instance, has her mind

shut to it. Granted, the tail flickers

& her ears twitch as if she’s heard

death’s shadow; next minute


tho she knows nothing.




The dead stopped in cubicles like graves

off the long corridor. Entered


one. Even that/it – failed to connect,

& you so morbid, drained of blood.


He became, flexible. Strolled with light step

back to the street, the pale sky of morning.




Lets slip his cigarette

when the hearse pulls in &


stiffens, during the eulogy.

5 Responsesso far.

  1. Dean English Dean English says:

    I read sex and death into nearly everything everybody writes! Greetings for the holidays.

  2. Dean English Dean English says:

    interesting innuendos, sex, death, detachment…

Leave a Reply