Graveyard Jones

 

death is quiet.

too quiet

–commotion stalls

* pfft *

it’s over–

embalming timer’s

begun!

Volatile Tupperware

burping a stay-fresh lie

when even a shotgun bang

isn’t loud enough to seal it in…

a Marching Band,

(since you have to get a move on)

stadium stamp,

and blimp with logo:

“The world is over!”

stenciled on it

air raid sirens, emergency interrupt,

24-hour news coverage,

wouldn’t do it

unless anchormen cried

my best advice?

don’t look over your left shoulder in cemeteries

(for a comfortable place)

the only real magic

left

is pillaring into salt and

there might be less grass, this time,

mausoleum or marker, too,

 

and owls no longer asking:

who.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: