Why do some people Make
easy to imagine corpses?
Is it the skin Stretched
by age thin and dry
over the knuckles?
Or is it the breath Threatening
to expire Before
the next pause?
Or the hair Whispering
lightly Like an empty frame?
Or just the eyes Looking
endlessly Beyond
the wall Beyond
the night Beyond
the closed eyelids.
(To my boss, on National Boss Day.)
easy to imagine corpses?
Is it the skin Stretched
by age thin and dry
over the knuckles?
Or is it the breath Threatening
to expire Before
the next pause?
Or the hair Whispering
lightly Like an empty frame?
Or just the eyes Looking
endlessly Beyond
the wall Beyond
the night Beyond
the closed eyelids.
(To my boss, on National Boss Day.)
2 comments:
Its always a joy to run across a bit of poetry while blogging alone.
David
arch.m.
lovely poem as per usual. am loving the last three lines especially.
the piece reminded me of a particular scene of a particular film-- a japanese film based on a novel "Black Rain"
the events of one family, one small villiage, post-bombing. the scene is of the city being masaquered, the family tredging over parts and passing by a young man who is faced with realizing the zombie-like creature calling our his name is acutally his little school boy brother... tragic, touching and absolutly disgusting.
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