junkyardangel

once upon a time this was published
in some beat poetry journal . . .actually , there were quite a few, i just thought this one was funny and dorky

ha ha


Epitaph For A Friend

I killed a daddy longlegs.
Legs scurried a song along airtight
watertunnel as I filled my morning bath--
Ritual Cleansing.
All day I heard it's song of death
scalding the rim of my brain
now a bit off key (now a bit somber)
now creeping along living follicles
humming discordant death chant--
seducing calculator
serenading coffeecup & paperclip.
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
. . .
. . . ....stil it sang.
Even good intentioned obscenity
won't obliterate weeping of
sisters left behind
mothers holding dinner.
Silent sypmphonies of the afterdead
each note transient to the next moment
sang like sparrows until the sun
sought shelter from my eyes.

Back at home, day's chores put to rest
I baked a pie and ate it--
sorrowing welling up and spilling on my napkin.
Out of the corner of my left eye
I spied a pinch bug.
WHACK!
Now he's a gonner too.


EDIT: This has a particular typesetting, but for some reason it won't take on the blog?

AND: This is STILL a great sentence, so I am re-posting it!


My almost-ex-husband's ex-girlfriend's nearly-ex-husband is dating the fiddle-playing chick [of The Decemberists].