22 June 2016

Poem-A-Day #114 : Poem for Wednesday

Poem for Wednesday

The thunder is green - it is the air too - green and dismissing

How many pennies for the ferryman - we no longer bury with coin over the eyes - perhaps all of the dead sit on the shore waiting - Mercury is forgiving but the job would be mighty

That word - psychopomp - it's a bundle of things - a backpack full of items - baby wipes in ziploc bags - medications without labels - a few rocks from that trail in the mountains

It is a green word - the kind that calls thunder - it is dismissing in itself - it will take your hand and lead you into the forest of suicides - the word is off your tongue before it is on it

On the floor - it becomes a serpent and the man with the rod will render it in nine pieces - will destroy it - these words that crawl will brown like apples left on the counter

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