Brace yourself!
The taxes have come
stomping through
your house
your car
your mouth
your heart.

The porcelain in your mother's urn
the dust collecting on your sill
the money you give away in your will,
The facts you meant to learn.

You're ****** dry
a bag of bones on the floor
picked apart by the dogs
                                       cats
                                       birds
                                       rats
                                    that you paid to keep.