a poem: a man dies

| |

👇🏿 ain’t got no time for that? press play for the radical radio recording ✨


a man dies
of suicide
i find him

in a chair
with no hair
he shaves it.

in the nook
of his arm
a gun, that crook

crinkle-crackle
for blood spackle
a tarp put down

clean and neat
in winter heat
his body

smokes, drugs, booze
takes a great snooze
bang! on life.

his wife cries
screams her eyes
traumatized

screams and screams
cries and cries
he’s dead – he’s died

doubles down-over
lays to cover
him again

it didn’t work
it didn’t work
nine-one-one

no sirens
more crying
no bright lights

he is here
we are here
please help us

my dad dies
it is suicide
i find him.

Similar Posts