January 29, 2013

with an eye to the sky, I am...





prize fighting my humanity, with a coroner hitchhiking in the cracker jack

even living skin cells
are always dying
to tell a story
millions of them
will fall off me
as I write this poem
you will see
death is just another veil
like the surgical masks
I sometimes wear
not wanting to expose
my intention to someone’s mercies
this world will drink us up in hearsays

I have lit
the crime scene
with cheap mission
style solar lanterns
bought a bunch of them
strung them, hung them
for inexpensive ambiance
and an operator room spooky
a body leaves crumbs
in its emergency call signs
these are fairy tales
cautionary sales

what if it rains
someone asks
what if birds come
someone else asks
what happens they say
tell us while you give
a careful examination
of the corpse trail
while you explain
the difference
between splatters and drips
between drag smear pools
and the bagged fear tools

blood washes away
as emotions stay behind
in the bones
I tell them while taking
a closer look
let’s feel our gloved fingers
along the knob edge
of this door
this is where death turned
chance to come in
and box up
the jaw of an ass
carbon dating
one last ride to pass
one last side of glass

EJR ©

4 comments:

  1. really some cool touches in this one...the skin cells dying to tell a story...the emotions staying behind in the bones....intriguing close as well...boxing up the jaw of an ass...ha...

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  2. Interesting insight into the world of forensic pathology and working crime scenes.

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  3. I like the skin cells dying to tell a story, good lines!

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  4. I specially like the opening lines, death is just another veil ~

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