BLUEBIRD BONES REDUX

every typo

is a

town in wales

& theres

a monster

in my chest

playing hectic percussion

on the bluebird bones

blackmailing

the

sunlit uplands

where

the

hibernating mammals

hijacked my slumber

~

well the room is there

like a flat tires

rhythmic exhaling

& death is there

its back pages

condensed & lucent

in

a

twelve minute

drive thru

crematorium

&

the thin smoke of bones

is

forgetting itself

&

dissolving in glyphs

up there

in the grey bluebird sky

pic from reddit

DEATH YAWN REPLACEMENTS

&

after

someone

is 

done & over & finished
& cooked to dust & smoke
rising thin
from a faux totemic chimney
concrete tall

there is space made

like an empty yawn

for another

wet sacks

plastic kipple

to live & leak

&
frame their pictures
their 
way

from abcactionnews.com

BETWEEN SLEEP & SIMULATED REALITY 2

& 
the wrench out
from 
such forest moss

to 
  an
    indoors
    at
    first

 u n r e c o g n i s a b l e

becomes
where
coffee 
is
headlining
this
carnival show


~


well the room is there
like a flat tire is there
like death is there
in
a
twelve minute
drive thru
crematorium

thin smoke  
forgetting itself
in the grey blue sky

from en.wikipedia.org

FUNERAL

funeral
next
door
this
PM

this
AM
widower 
tells 
me-

was only 2 months back
dead wife she asked me
husband where will we go
when we die ?

i nod
i listen
i make
sympathy
bleats

widower 
tells 
me-

now thats when i 
started looking 
at the crematoriums
round here

and
i 
THINK
but
dont
SAY

but widower
is that really what she meant ?

from humanist.org