The Body Bag

30 May 2012

at requiem of ancient yore
did I recline today
--many a cadaver's years ago
in grossly fruitful May

incumbent, in the Orange pew
'midst Mirrored plates of Gold,
in them--harlequin's Rosed apples
flushed behind tickling truths untold and

black brows, arched in paused alarm
did furrow deep' With Mine--
cavernous--and--canyonous! grooves
for clarity I knew did pine

parson--with head of Flame
the casket lid did raise
and as the jar's fore-seal relented,
its scent my skin did graze:

swift', as if with axen wedge the
air my forearm peeled
so hooting, parson's mane did part
and the countenance revealed was

Shared among us--as if reflection
'til his combusted pale
and stood there then, O Reaper Grim
draped in rusted robes of mail

and toward the casket propped ajar he pointed finger frail

still blind and lame of reason do I head the wooden vale
and lift it from its resting place,
drawing curtains of Mirrored beads to
unmask the body's face but

my! alas! a body bag!
I pull now grayingly on the tag and
Blood--shot From The Inside up--
the punctuation of the snag

and beneath the cellophane
bound tightly 'round the hallow head
I breathe with waning conviction's beat--
--alas, opaque plastic 'bout my feet