poetry critical

online poetry workshop


death broker
peddles cremation jewellry
talons scritch-scratching
for purchase on the stiff cold
of my Mother's body
understated blue suit
and conservative tie
ill-conceal a neb
shaped to feed
on grief
and all of you
clawing at my Mother's belongings
seeking to line your filthy nests
eyes a-glitter as they light upon
her shiny things
fuck you all
my Mother is dead and I am drowning
in the stench
of rotting lilies

23 Jan 19

(define the words in this poem)
(130 more poems by this author)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha