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.
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 12:01 PM UTC
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.
Request permission to use this poem