schoon

for Linda minus forever.

I promise to insert my acrylic  fingernails in the dead holes of the undertaker.

is that my blood in the bowl? My fellowship? My fellatio? And of

this noxious miasma lobbing red cells from cheek to jawbone;

I promise to come back haunting as a giant bird who's cull

won't even be believed. Banging  languages with the cloth of my

bachelors degree. Analyzing it's earth's/

it's gabbro. The way it's coitus hums when dissolved in pure

water. How it was able to withstand the hurt (the hurt)

until eyeballs  and ants purred and turned yellow. Wearing skinny

jeans in the woods where the cabin with the wood burning stove

only had a blanket for it's front door. It will be like saying

"baby, what's that smell coming from the kitchen"? Why does

a world allow cuts in the bone resembling womanhood?  There's no

hurry love.  Bring the feng shui spirits close to where the

breast form eases over the lopped off geometry. That way,

the sisters will think I was whole.

2. I will lay below the funeral homes calendar (my wish). They will

give out cardboard fans with the phone number of the baker

who made ferly strangeness out of watermelon cutouts.  They will drag

my felt to the hole in the ground

they will toss me in.

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

When it comes right down to it the best thing we can hope for is to be the best fertilizer we can possibly be.

[h d e rushin]

two funerals in the last two weeks brother. Its true. We die like hamster's with our fur sometimes rolled up against our legs. We are ash. thanks brother...dana

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice comparison with embalming the corpse c: I enjoyed it a lot. It had a good flow to it too.

[h d e rushin]

thank you love....dana

[Paul Bell]

There's always something weird about a skeleton in clothes, skinny jeans or not.
But we're all going in that hole at sometime. Oh, forgot there's no room for burials any more. We're all getting thrown into the woods where nature will look after us. What's the bakers phone number.

[h d e rushin]

like Japan's Aokigahara forest where people go (some despondent/some just tired of living) to commit suicide. First they pray to the God of withdrawing and I guess if he or she doesn't put their fingerprint of approval on your forehead, your a goner. Thanks for your comments my friend...dana

[Paul Bell]

Don't know if it's a 21st century thing. But there sure are a lot of unhappy people around.

[Robert Trakofler]

Your stylus cuts deep grooves in this one Dana. I hope you don't comeback as a giant bird and haunt the bunny:) sides you haunted pretty good in this one and your still animate! The thought of you as a specter would be legendary among the ghost lore world. The degree of emotion you place in your lines is amazing sometimes Dana

[h d e rushin]

thanks you dear brother for those kind comments my friend...much appreciated. dana

[kentuck14]

The multiple layers of this poem weave a very interesting perspective. Beginning with (I presume) the embalming of the body . . . but never the soul. I see the soul (dressed in skinny jeans) running away to some mystical place in the woods where there is no reason to 'hurry' anymore, no reason to pretend anymore . . . the smells coming from the kitchen is the emptiness of the woman's desire to please a man through his stomach. Woman is more than a tool, a device in coitus, a means to an end. Womanhood is more than the shape of a breast, the deep valley between them. . . even when the breast is 'lopped off' the spirit of the woman lives on and the soul remains whole. The woman is more than her body . . . throw it in the ground and the woman remains.
T

[h d e rushin]

I agree with you dearest kentuck14. My sister had both her breasts removed and for a long time wouldn't look you in the eye. In every stage of your life there is an emergency I guess. And although womanhood is a life giving force, it too questions it's viability. Thanks, as always, for your insight my friend..dana

[Ken Simm.]

You take the world you had and have and make it art. You take one of the greatest lexicons on here and expand it constantly. What else can I say. You are a hero. A poet and a true user of words as they are used by a person living and having lived.

[h d e rushin]

my dear brother: it's almost too hot here in Detroit for poetry...lol. can you imagine that? Thanks for your kind words Ken. Thanks for always finding me....dana

[Corset]

and the world will be all the worse but better for it, as all genius when laid to rest take a piece of the livings soul into the ground with them, when the night will be so still and quiet that the stars themselves seem to have all disappeared, but not today my friend don't you dare ..not today and not tomorrow because a year and a half from now you may think I won't remember but you don't know me...not in the way I can be stubborn, not in the way that I remember dates Aquarius , not the way it bends me when one I remember doubles me over with a w(retch) in my heart. Besides felt is itchy, you certainly don't want to be itchy forever anon do you? I know you are more intelligent than me but never wear felt to a funeral dear.

[h d e rushin]

I thought about felt as an adjective , as a brushed on encasement; as the original gangster clumsiness you fall into, in that dream where falling happens and your searching for softness (or the creator). Whatever. Nothing felt is around me as I write this, which rings as awful/alarming since you Corset, can understand the meaning of poetic honesty and safe landings. We got some dawg-on blues, we poets. Thanks for your kind words my friend......dana

[Corset]

I think I know that, when people speak of death especially their own demise it's a knee jerk reaction to try and make light of the possibility that might just scare the heck out of the one contemplating , its the ones left behind that suffer the most , I imagine dead people don't know that they are dead,as I might be on the cusp of belief that after the pitch black of nothing if your eyes open again it's into an new kind of understanding.
please understand...

[h d e rushin]

i do. trust me love. I do understand