Thursday, April 12, 2012

Dying is easy...

Death can be achieved
in one hundred words. 
From vibrancy to soul decay
in a handful of syllables and lines
Everything to nothing 
but food for the trees in the break
between shoddy sentences 
and the difference between ink 
and acid-free pages. 
A more permanent silence 
in the gentle ridges of the pulp. 
And that is where I go to lie 
in words that have no meaning
print and ink, chastisement 
and recovery. Nothing at all 
but that which burns as kindle
in the barbecue grill of the illiterate
man, some words and pages
catching fire. That is death.

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