Death is real...
You can never tell when you breathe your last...
so poems are my will...
**& mouthpiece when i return to mere dust

My words are decomposing to a outline
of dead thoughts only a chalk silhouette
shows what was once there.

But now as not used in so long they are
laid to rest. RIP was on that paper,
repeated in preparation, over and over again.

did the cage
make you a beast
or did you find
your beastly self caged
does it matter now
perhaps
to historians.

The early show
Cheap tickets
For the big screen
Full of stars
Popcorn aplenty
Another tally mark
Against one more day
Worse ways to **** time.

Stop that
hmm no
Stop that
oh okay
R r really
no
I want to
kinda really
but
no.

A giggle in your throat
as you discuss
the horrific mad mundane
thing
some not all
call the day to day
stop it
be somber
then people will care
maybe.