Feeling a little morbid, are we?

Well no, not really. It’s really just a convergence of events: haven’t posted in a while but don’t yet have the energy to take on the drowning of Houston or the marching of nazis or the deep foul bucket of other pressing current events. Plus I have in my possession some interesting graveyard snaps to share with you. Plus I have in my possession a couple pieces o’ poesy that more or less take place in graveyards. Since they gel with the aforementioned then they also I aim to share with you. We’ll circle back another time to current events fair and foul, and arts & culture most definitely fair. The verse is only an interlude, and at times an unwelcome but still needful reminder of those rotten things to which fate binds us…

Everyone’s Speeding to the Same Destination

Boneyard requiem, that final wormy dance

from birth to death, cradle to grave

poor bastard never stood a chance.

From embalmed flesh to forgotten dust—coffin nails long turned to rust


No one living recalls his name

He might not have ever been.


Late Embrace

I waited five weeks to find where she lay - embraced by the soil, wrapped in decay.  - Every turn of my spade was wrought by my heart. No terrestrial boundaries could keep us apart.

The world scorned my yearnings, labeled me mad. I sought her sweet favors, her family forbad. Some fever then took her, it stole her from me. But the black veil of sorrow would ere set us free.

When my spade finally found her I sobbed my delight. I seized her, embraced her, and dragged her toward light. Did anyone see us? I never did care; there by her graveside our love laid us bare.

Our union was perfect, a coda to woe: I wouldn’t be sated, she couldn’t say no. We stayed there together til the rise of the moon, then I kissed her and told her to expect me back soon.

About editor, facilitator, decider

Doesn't know much about culture, but knows when it's going to hell in a handbasket.
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