Rain danced gleefully across the tombstones as if mocking the dead. The now wet moss on older parts of the graveyard made the ground slick. It grew where other forms of life refused for reasons of their own, yet sparingly did the moss do so as if even it respected burial grounds.

Somehow you have found, where I was in the ground. I am there, I am also here. You have something new to fear. I’m not alive, but not quite dead . Though this is not what you have read. While light can be quite fun, I must avoid the world with sun. To walk the night is not quite what you think.

The Ponderosa Pines hunched ponderously,
Their convoluted gestures frozen
With dry, rasping limbs in stages of vexation
And narrow forearms lifted high
In savored moments of exalted epiphany.
My brother and I climbed the questions
They grew,

she walks
head bent against the cold
and the weight of grief
shoving her down

her black hair blows
in the wind around her head
i call out and she turns
her green eyes searching
for the dead that she can’t see

A thousand stark crosses
Plotted on a green hill
Once moving a thousand miles an hour
Now stand still.
At life’s bloody terminus
We are told they are the purest of all of us
The rolling front blending together
Forming a sea of forever

Music Will Play
People Will Cry

But Big Joe
Didn’t Die

The coffin wood grabs at my clothes
The wood chokes me
The darkness attacks me
The weariness crawls around me
When it opens the sun grabs me
I am back

One vision, that is all it took to know how it all ends. That was the idea behind the product 32F, nicknamed the Death Box. There were 380 of us, we were the test subjects who willingly volunteered for the test. Truthfully, I was just in it for the money.

Sitting on my grandpa Larry’s lap,
laughing and smiling.
Going everywhere on the cart smiling.
Smiling the way he laughs.
Going to the hospital trying to smile,
but I can’t.
Rushing to his room I run.
He is still there I smile.

I loved you
And you loved me
Many nights we stayed awake together
Holding you close
Every time singing
Rhymes of geese and shoes
Every night

I hear the gunshot, I do not see 
The bullet but I know it’s coming 
Aimed to perforate my skull 
They say your life flashes, once death’s 
Shadow is on your tail and grips you in 
Your terror’s wake. I have 0.05 seconds 

The tabletop
Dirty
With years of paint.
A paint knife
A sponge
A cup of water
The only things that remove years of memories
A fresh palate
Orange watercolor
Pink tempura
Black acrylic
White wall paint
And hot glue