Untitled
The chill wind blow outside my window
I open it just a crack with my trusty hammer
I let the white sharp air infiltrate my mind
I can almost feel the stainless steel bed upon which I lie
But now I do not see my breath
No inhalation, no exhalation
My body has become as solid as ice
Here at forty degrees Fahrenheit
Preserved some would argue
Static, rigid, stopped
Is this real?
Or is it just the path down which my frozen mind slides?
The plain white sheet, draped over me
The label tied lovingly around my toe…
Jim had it right,
My only friend…
1/25/2006 12:36 AM
I open it just a crack with my trusty hammer
I let the white sharp air infiltrate my mind
I can almost feel the stainless steel bed upon which I lie
But now I do not see my breath
No inhalation, no exhalation
My body has become as solid as ice
Here at forty degrees Fahrenheit
Preserved some would argue
Static, rigid, stopped
Is this real?
Or is it just the path down which my frozen mind slides?
The plain white sheet, draped over me
The label tied lovingly around my toe…
Jim had it right,
My only friend…
1/25/2006 12:36 AM
posted by Unknown at 2:53 AM
1 Comments:
Honey, I'm at such a loss. I know this is a corpse in the morgue but "Jim"?...Morrison? Bones? Will you tell me tonight? You said that it will come to me...but 3 days later still...?
Post a Comment
<< Home