Sunday, November 30, 2014


-Stop. Look. Listen.-

Requiem for the liquor salesman on the road

Hit by the train
The Doppler shift won’t matter.

But a slow death is like the funeral knell
With the Doppler in effect.

It opens with its soft alarm, then
Crescendo— and it’s too late to recover.

––The tree
Falls and you aren't in the woods to hear it.

––The star
You’re looking at isn’t really there.

––You don't
Hear the one that’s got your name on it.

––It's the first
Chesterfield that killed you.






                                                      



  

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.