an apparition
like everyone before us
we just disappear
leaving no trace of our lives
except unread inscriptions
death
mind your manners…
although death
had not scheduled
an appointment
it arrived
none the less
complains
about
premature
and
unexpected
were
notoriously ignored
most folks
know
death
rarely sends out
notices
requesting
répondez s’il vous plaît
since
most
would never
reply
anyway
breaking news…
ain’t no breaking news
the same crimes are committed
over and over again
and the dead
still ain’t gonna get justice
for how do you give justice
to the dead
when their ashes are blown in the wind
to new crime scenes
while
those with blood on their hands
dine out on plush patios
wanting the wind to die down
for there’s
too much
dust
in the air
beyond repair…
a broken main spring
a clock that can’t be repaired
just like an old man
whose life’s slowly winding down
but much faster than he likes
autobiographies…
it’s uncomfortable
this writing our last chapters
but the only way
to make sure life’s typos
are fixed to reflect the truth
surrendering…
in our depression
when doom’s finally accepted
we die before death
let the record show…
buried beneath
the rubble of political rhetoric
children
dying
in
the cancerous womb
of
ambition
and
greed
let the record show
as the children
cried out for help
and their bodies
were ripped apart
by assault weapons
only
self-serving words
were heard
from
washington’s marble halls
let the record show
those
who have sworn
to
serve
the nation’s people
selflessly
no longer wear
the nation’s flag
upon their lapel
but
weapons
used to kill
our children
proclaiming
the nation is second
to their quest for power
let the record show
their desire for power
is so strong
they are
willing
to devour
the entrails
of
children
born and unborn
let the record show
maybe tomorrow…
one day
we’ll all
wake up
alone
we’ll hear
those familiar sounds
morning birds
how the house
seems to wake
alongside us
it’ll be then
that
our hearts sink
and
our eyes
realize
we’re
in bed
and
truly
alone
bodhi…
can you not hear it
the shuffling cadence of death
slow muffled drumbeats
moving ever close to you
can you can you not hear it
corporeal…
it’s recyclable
but there’s no refund offered
well some believe that
there’s a promissory note
payout’s not been verified
Read Between the Minds 