Just what I needed
just when I fell
the smoke from my wounds still rising
my body unwell

Brought back to my hometown
with  misery on my back
found what the summer was mourning
loved all the things that I lacked

I wonder if there is any consolation
in having an afterlife of any sort.

Will I wind up waiting for my enter lifetime
to end
Just to get there
Looking for a spray or a flash
A carbonic tip of your hat
That Redsox baseball cap
or the newsboy
Will I sense a vibrational intonation
that could pass for a wry yet incomprehensible
Hey Half-Pint!
or
See Ya Li'l Bit!
Just to watch you fly away from me
with all the words still in my mouth?

Will I stand there or vibrate in wave patterns
as I don't know what one does,
having waited so long
having been so patient
that that distinctively
Hello/Goodbye
You're On Your Own moment
Although shocking
would feel sadly familiar
You a Depression era baby
and I am not
Will I watch you explode into nothingness and
know that mother isn't even with you?

I don't think that I understand the ways
of
Loss.

The wind makes herself known to me
This grey Sunday
The day after love in February
She's breaking roots
My armour is cracking
My eyes drip
A cave system internal
Sits unexplored

|content warning in notes|

i never met the little one
they flushed away that night
a fleeting dreamt up fantasy
miscarried out of sight.

i never even thought not once
a fate where they survived
but all i think about them now
is that fleeting dreamt up night.

i never met the little one
whose name i wouldn't hear
for losing more than fantasy
was too dangerous a fear.

As you sit snug in your casket case
I wonder-
Do you ever feel the glare of polished eyes
Watching you, thinking praying for your wake?
Can’t blame them for the racket, you see-
As you lie peacefully
We feel the pulsing- or maybe a lack there of.

If a pin dropped I wouldn’t notice-
For I can only hear the loud stare of polished eyes starting to compact within shaking heads-
Yet they forget their owner ship over
living beating- ****** hearts.
While yours lay still in a box with only a shell.

While the world
And I
Mourn Kobe's passing,
On nearly the same day
Jihadists invaded villages...
West Africa,
Burkina Faso,
Alamou.

Villagers ordered out
Into the open areas
Gunned down,
Slashed,
Murdered.

An attendance question opens,
"What happened in the world?'

Kobe Bryant is gone.
Private helicopter crashed.
The world is on its head.

We hang our heads
In mourning.

Jacque's turn:
"My village was
Attacked Saturday.
Forty people killed.
My wife and children...
There.
The people are fleeing
To the capitol,
Ouagadouga."

[Awkward, this revelation.
How will I ever justify
A week of Edgar Allan Poe?]

We bow to pray.