Later Man...

He died in the morning
so we wouldn’t have to wait all day
for the famous final gasps,
the last battle cry
letting us know he’s seen
a broad sparkly gate,
or a comfy white cloud,
or a twinkle-eyed fellow
in blowy brown robes.
So we waited,
chins raised
eyebrows poised.
But when he screamed out
“there’s backgammon here!”
the eyebrows fell
knowing he didn’t play backgammon
knowing he never liked board games
knowing we’d probably have to wait a lifetime
to hear what that’s all about.

Fit to be Tied

Strangled by heart strings
12 seconds from a really good excuse
a greeting card romantic
pulling roses from billowy shirt sleeve.
You could choke on vile aroma.
The petals thin skinned
streaming crimson,
thorns shearing butterfly wings
those nasty things
giving flight to wild desires
and fancy flings
the pirate ship,
the mermaid barbeque,
the snow kissed mountain,
the moon juice dripping
from a closed mouth grin
blocking the parade
just inches apart
close to the heart
so close you can smell it,
the bloody egg and bacon breakfast
her dreams on toast
with a shot of bourbon.