her shape it twists and changes as you watch
try to catch her with your eye and you've lost
a presence looms from beneath
behind the ears is where she creeps
crack stone demeanor blood will leak
if we hadn't invited her we suppose we'd weep
we build the robots to build more things
new plastic toys and candy rings
posts that waste such energy
puffs of smog with each stroke of every key
collectively paying obeisance to entropy
The color of bones in the desert
cold breath of wendigo
blancmange and clotted cream
poisonous maida to the soul
black is earth and fertile ground
rich mystery of night
but the face of Sister Death herself
is blindingly skull-white
Monday, December 6, 2021
Dutiful Dirges
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