grayscale photo of feather

Letter To The Afterworld

The sirens sound loudly all the way down this road, 
And the stray dogs approach strangers, and princes kiss toads. 
I used to just be the girl who saw lights shining around heads 
Now I hang out at windows and wear out pencil leads.
While the golden goose and viper fight over pomegranate seeds
I tell them it is useless and hang a sign from the tree saying:
"All knowledge is all poisoned and the opinons grow weeds!"
But Vipers can't read and even fewer can see.....
The statues are all 'armless and the marked trails sway
As chipmunks shake tiny fists at the destruction of day.

The discontent rumbles, down the backwoods tracks it rolls
While the overhang threatens to take over the road.
Woody and G'Burg they hopped the last D train
To replace signs pointing towards Freedom that have run in the rain.
They say it's gonna be a hard one that simply must fall
But the propaganda's all phony and the stool pigeons make calls!
The road has been shattered by Cassady's iron hammer
And Jack flipped a knife and sliced up the gregorian calender:
The years are leapt over as string bean men shout:
Every road leads to Mexico, the dharma dawgs are let out!

The lights round the heads, or the gaps in the shadows
Are being swarmed by the bats in the country pile hallows.
Two feet swing by a rope round the neck,
The only way's down, but sulphur and fire is not where it's at
At least not yet.
The matches are all lit, but none of them take.
Burn the rope at the gallows or else stop preaching the hate!

I don't direct the choir, I don't even sing the song,
I don't take credit, and have cashed out the palm fronds:
Exchanged them for fortune and the call of the wild,
I can't taste the sweetness; Im no longer a child.
Now I don't have much trouble walking The Line
I just draw it up crooked and cook the words up just fine.
The riot-men are all marked, and their arrows dont fly
The quivers are shaking and the doves start to cry.
I tried to explain to them that I dont find the light -
I just see that it's there: it's not something I fight!
Unlike their make believe worlds where gravity fails,
Dead cats dont tell tails, while Jonah walks the cursed whales!
Under an earth they fret that has ceased to be round
They worry about falling off the edges and floating off the ground!

The road has been hit. The battery's dead. My character's ailing
Someone hit my head with a door and knocked me flying
And my boots pinch my toes and I haven't stopped crying.
I had a mousse for supper with a new type of tea.
I got a voucher for 60 percent off a case of chablis.
Every show I watch and all the new songs are just manifestations
Of psychotic episodes gone wrong.
Nothing means much, even less is satisfying,
I made myself sick with worrying and crying. 

I would say that I am tired, I would say I'm down to the bone
That clarity is chilling, and so is carrying the stone
That I've rolled in front of your new screen door.
In my head there is no more talking anymore:
So no rolling it away, and haunting my dreams,
No stealing my favorite guitar pick that says
Wish you were here. No midnight ghoul screams!

The camera is sharp and the prosecutor is hungry:
They couldn't catch you, but the solution wasn't funny.
Now I know that you are laughing, I know you are thrilled:
The bottle is out of your hand, and you don't need the pills.
The least you could have done is to have left them to me
So I might have something to save the shreds of my tested sanity.
But then if you weren't thoughtful in life
You won't be in death.
I bet some rent boy has got them and is nodding out in your bed.

Time won't erase the last twenty five years:
The rest stops are catalogued by occupants and eras.
The night of the cows. That day of the lion
That made it's own wind as it chased down the
Twin stars of Orion. 
Is he wearing the skin? Is he hunting the deer?
Are you visiting Brian? Are you still holding me dear?
Is the night sky your blanket? Are you still in much pain?
Do you remember me always, or am I crying in vain?
Do you still like baseball? Are you even still you?
Is there any point to living? Or are you bereft and blue?
Is there a God in the heavens or are you confused
By the ever changing motion of the universal glue?
Will you be there when I exit? Will you still come to see me?
Can I have back my guitar pick? 
I'm using the one with the tree!
Are you trying to get my attention?
What would you do if you got it?
Can't you see that I'm happy, 
Can you see I'm content?
Do you like the curtains? 
Will you give me some rent
For the space that you occupy in my head as we speak.....
Are you mad? Are you sorry?
Do you miss me? Are you high?
Is there any point in living?
What is it like when we die?
Is dying a drag?
Were you scared?
Did it hurt?
Are you safe now?
Don't answer
I beg you
Please stay in the dirt. 


4 Comments

  1. Time Traveler of Life

    As I read this I saw your history, and the misery rained upon you. But you survived all that and have the best of that time sleeping in the next room. Your boy is your salvation, and he will be as strong as your have been and are now! Sending love and hugs to you both.

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