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Charming of The Terminal End[s]
"I"..."I"..."I", thuslike was
was the way
ol'Pops referred to Mom, of her
name,
Irene...
they both be "late" as per th'referencial
adjective
wit which wee come to designate Them chillychilly ashen
dead folk, (a term a term a term eye've
all ways th'ought of wit some ironic bemusement,or
should that be 'amusement'?)
"hey, I !" was her casting call.......
Iyamnot going to make any subjective idiot qualifications
about
their 'quality of life':
"oh, they lived a good life"....aw,cmon, whathfck is that
sposed t'mean in this
realm of denial so peculiar
to the human(ity)? O, platitudinal homily,
so holy wholly un'to
distraction!un'to decomposition
(well averted via thee crematorial oven)
so___________here Iyam, for there I was, never knowing
______where_____was I, (as if It matters at this, or any other
pointed time),
left behind
many a time...left
wit the gift of
contemplatin'empty space
neither Ma nor Pa had such a gift for so charmed an 'end game'
BTW: has anyone got a spare soul,spirit,or self I can borrow for awhile?....would be much appreciated.
______________________________________
dkzk\idiotsavantHypercreativeBadArts(forTheeWholeFamily)
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Published 29th Dec 2013
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I had a full spirit once; it got hijacked from its original container one night, but I found it and took it back about a half-life later, living in some half-wit necessitating verse that dissolves the days quadratic equations and the sound of traffic, for a while. I wonder if there’s a soul that will smile with me, and imagine the sound of a lost light… your writings are full or sound.
