found dead

so I'm reading

"The New Supernatural Alternative to Nothingness"

but one day, after not answering the phone,

the authorities will kick down my door and find me dead.

My eyes

the backgrounds of wisdom and cultivation,

will be those blackened specks following nothing.

My retina's spun to one side like a Carmex

left in the Maytag spin cycle. My

arms, an antonym for providence, will be reaching out

as if stroking the hair of the little girl.

Someone will say

"they put him away so nicely", or

"I've never seen him look as good as this"

not knowing that I could still hear

since hearing is the last thing to go. Speech,

slang, earhairs, erections,

the pilings of spit balls that appear

on my lower lip at midnight,

they go first.

then sight, then the way you loved me,

then the wormwood of that shrub you called 

your Brazilian Weave. But eventually

all of this will harden. And if you can

stand still long enough

as my stink suggest the air of some forgotten thing,

you will see my soul rise

and trample the town.

Reviews

[boygene borice]

The desrciption of the scene and imagery used is impressive. If i may ask please, what motivated you to write down such kind of a poem that cause chills in the spine?

[h d e rushin]

thank you dearest for stopping by to visit me....dana

[boygene borice]

Welcome. Pleasure :)

[W.k.kortas]

Is "self-valediction" a thing? In any case, I would gladly borrow this for my epitaph.

[h d e rushin]

thanks dearest wk and happy new years greeting/ dana