Coffins In The Sky

Oringally written as a letter addressed in general to my friends in NY as I boarded a plane back to NC last year--with a half self-induced ominous feeling that the plane would never make it there. Trimmed into this poem.

What are we going to do with all of the bodies?

All of the jigsaw bodies?

When all these coffins in the sky hit the Earth burning?

It makes me nervous to think that the last time you said goodbye could be the last time

You say goodbye.

I'm mailing you a snapshot of my hand so you'll remember me waving.

So the last time can last forever.

In a perfect dream everyone's coffin holds enough fuel to fly straight to heaven.

If you ever get there tell god I forgive him.

For

Not

Existing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment. I'm quite open to taking the bad with the good so don't hold back. The more detailed your comments are the better. Thanks again.