Relieved bowels
before pain is áh vowel,
consumed
me ended. Death
is a petty leaf, to sleep beneath
a pretty earth. What word will last
and last
oracle come past
my lips
when I’m almost stiff
and conclusive gasp. ‘A
Spanish mutter or aspect
while curling and reaching
for aspirin,
could be a joke and I laugh
blue with smoke blurring
the vision
of what existence
once
was but no more mission
but rest
but forgetfulness
but lo and behold
I shall say, it is time! me
becoming ultra-cold.

Contemporary Poetry