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Symbols of Nothing Together
Folder:
Unpublished pieces
There's some kind of strange
liquid that seeps
from the thirst
of the dead.
I've yet to find it
Seeking everywhere,
even beneath the
teachings of the
Church, for that
elusive stretch of
the imagination.
I can beg for respect,
or I can dangle
a perspective in
front of the crowds
of gathered souls.
Telling them the secrets of dying.
We can have those secrets in common.
Yellowing paper catching fire.
Burning itself away.
We can do that too
and
become
symbols of nothing together.
