top of page
  • Todd Wooten

Dueling Obituaries

the corpse is showcased in a box

my body consumed in the fire

modeling a suit and tie

heaping mound of ash and bone

remarks on his appearance

strewn in scattered handfuls

friends sob as they amble by

delightful, soiled view of the sky


vehicles creep in slow procession

I feed the grass and tend to flowers

claustrophobic carriage ride

me lying on a mat of clover

in the backseat of a hearse

drinking in the evening rain

traffic stops for headlights

rushing toward the steepled pines


lowered deep into the mud

floating on the meadow wind

a few words of remembrance

birds singing courtly overhead

final time he will be viewed

I resurrect in every season

joining family who have died

now I finally feel alive

6 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

A Greek Tragedy

Sentries stand guard over the dungeon of Danae where I hide from betrayal and Zeus. I once had a child - not Perseus - born to a Gorgon with Stonehenge eyes An Odyssey prepared to a foreign land, wher

Abandoned

Your abandonment was a whisper. Like the autumn breeze whistling through the dilapidated shack that creaks among the trees. I hear the retreating army of your footsteps. I catch glances in the periphe

A Bout of Ideation

But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. - from “Wanting to Die” by Anne Sexton thoughts before my second psych ward visit: People

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page