He smiled straight through
the apocalypse.
Just as long as his shoelaces
were tied.
Nothing much left to grieve
over now.
All were dead cell dirt naps
in the Earth.
Maybe one day he'd see them
all again.
Those bodies would move a little
unlike now.
It's possible that when he dies from
lethal injection;
His brain might become cloudy like
laundry in a washer.
Drowning in the bleach that rots his
body in reverse,
his thoughts will still wander to the
girl in the field,
picking daisies for her mother.
And the vision of the sun darting
off her golden skin
and sending secrets
to his brain will be even clearer now.
Then everything fades into dying blue.
Erection in place, he'll never be alone.

04/12/2009

Posted on 04/12/2009
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