a man is put in a coffin and buried in a cemetery.
over time, his veins begin to be replaced with vines
entangled with roots and dirtied with soil
until he is nothing but a skeleton.
it is quite boring to be in a coffin for ten years.
so, he begins to practice, practice, practice for something big.
he trains until he can rattle his bones at will, and he knows someone
would understand the message he would send them.
he speaks to the man buried a few feet away from him.
"what are you in for?" he rattles.
"i was shot," the other dead man replies simply. "what about you?"
"i killed myself." he rattles back.
"tragic. you must spend quite some time pondering what could've been."
the other dead man rolls over in his coffin and sleeps.
YOU ARE READING
the veiled lady/hailstones between my teeth
Poetrythere is nothing out there there is nothing beyond this here this is it *** 12/16/23 first book of poetry there is nothing beyond