I **** time in cemeteries.

Sticky, humid cemeteries in the summer.
Golden, dead cemeteries in the fall.
Barren, watchful cemeteries in the winter.
Greeting the new dead in the spring.

When I have time to ****, I do it in mausoleums, sepulchers, graveyards.
I use, abuse, and muse over the refused, when I have time to ****.

To remind myself I’m alive.
To remind myself I’ll die.
To remind myself to remember I’ll be forgotten.
To remind myself I’ll be
      Reduced to ashes
      Behind marble plaque
      Underground.
      Thrown in the sea,
      Where I’ll rest for eternity.

Just to remind myself I’m not alone.
That we’re all headed to the Sunset Limited.

He taught me
to find love in the fruit of the sea.
In the flesh of mussels,
spread open,
before ******* them down.

He taught me
to find love on a fruit tree.
Specifically,
in a split open fresh fig.
Sweat
mingling,
with sweet juices.

He's the oldest feather,
but my father's father,

Could find love
in the tears of his eldest son.