Monday, January 5, 2015

At The End

At The End

When I died I stayed
upright for a bit and ran
across fifteen states
looking I suppose
for you and all the others
who poked fun at me.

After finding out
what had become of you all
I let go with my toes
and drifted off key,
let the B string snap for good,
and splintered my wood,
watching it sidle
down to rest on those glass rocks.

I stripped down to bone.

‎January 5, ‎2015 7:40 PM

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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