Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
No longer a thought
within my brain,
the mortician lay me
down to sleep

a scream i refrained
surfaced as white
within my eyes
that none had bought

my vitals he checked
and thumped my nose
as a creep
then:

a bath and massage
no dance but song
two strong hands
then set my face

arterial embalming
then drain/eject
it's all the same
the cavity --
aspirate and concentrate

The humming thrumming
burning desire
escaped as soon as with
a pop I fled my skin
and faced the choice
to do it once again.

:: 10-23-2018 ::
It's October so why not write a poem about the mortician's work?  Wrap it up in the concept of reincarnation.
EP Robles
Written by
EP Robles
569
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems