Published in The Blue Nib Literary Magazine
Life slips and slinks
with busy-ness buzzing
plugged in feeding parched souls
with rechargeable hope
distracting from the inability to ever avoid
that which comes.
It explains with powerless memes,
photo shopped prettiness, desperate prayer,
delusional certainties flirting
with absurdity and uselessness that
all things happen for a reason.
It generates lists
high powered telescopes
gazing on worlds unreachable.
And still life cowers
in the shadow of the disguises of Death
eternal in its coming
endless in name
vulgarly intrusive in its thundering.
its lies heavy
at my feet
where they thudded
like a suitcase
a stranger packed for me
but weighted down
who never really knew me at all.
Death’s call is roiling