Sunday, June 3, 2012

Tilted Crown

One day I watch a photo float by
A book in my face
I raised my finger
To touch it
And merely sent myself sideways

And looking finally found
What it was I seeked
I shrieked
Realized the whole time trap
Is real

Then I unreel

How could the face
Of my father
Be turning into leather
The crown my mother wore
Is tilting on top of her head

Death dare not approach
The ones I love
I will beat it back
Undo the tick

My finger knows this trick

I point
Create a reference
Anchor time to the ocean floor
And wave to the crowded room

Shuffle my papers
Clear my throat
And hope that stops the coffin

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