Monday, August 8, 2011

B is for Last Rites

[i called this "last rite". i was going to call it "fly carcass fly" but that didn't happen either and "untitled" is just too lame for me to use right now as well. Pax]

Dead carcass in the road
The exes swoop down
Picks up
Feast on the famine of oxygen.
Start with the eyes.
Heaven knows that’s where it all began.
Fitting it ends there.
I… KNOW that frame
Faster, faster to the remains of what remains
Be gone already.
At least let me bury the rest.
With incense only the dead can smell
Let me bury this frame from the prying eyes
Of the Vulturama
Let me rest.
But the thought says…
The thought says,
“Let the nature feed. I’m not there anymore. I am not there.”
All at once
This spirit got free of you
Returns to godhood
Wrapped under God’s hood
No burial necessary
I’m not there
I am not there
I fly free of you
Vulture, I win.
I win.

Last Rites
© Tracy J Hutchings
August 8th 2011