WHEN THE SUN AND MOON DIES

WHEN i die take my hand
when i smile kiss
these living lips
saying ‘i’m so happy’
and now you have dirt
to throw across my casket
where were you when i
fell off my perch?
AND if the sun burns away
will the moon say to itself:
“i was grocery shopping for
the newest moon beans”
so you’re happy you really
made me crack a fissure of hate
and now i’m so happy to know
that you’re a cosmic bitch
–you really accomplished much
and put my soul to rest
And if you fuck yourself
you will make yourself happy
but what about carpal syndrome?
hope you ache from finger tips
all through your wrists and into
the gapping chasm where your heart
once lived

:: 09-02-2015 ::