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A Good Way to Die

Todd Wooten

Oct 28, 20231 min read

What is the string of hope?

Commencing with an hourglass tattoo on my skin.

Question mark shape outlined in the dunes.

Parched I refuse to drink the assembled

heaps of blades and bullets.

Reluctant I remain, seething, breathing

refusing to reward my pain.

Tincture drops wet my tongue.

Words vomit out in heaves.

With cramping hands I transcribe

crisp pages splattered with ink.

Death arrives summoning.

Door opened wide, smiling.

Pouring drinks from a decanter

distilled of regret and rage.

Slipping burn crosses my fingertips

announcing victory to the assembled mourners.

"I have no more words. I have said all I wanted."

Tossing them the page.

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