About the Dead Man and His Funeral
The dead man watches the parade
unfold: faces of former students, still
boyish in his memory, smiles masking
questions of innocence defiled.
A wake is not a place, he muses,
for such considerations, such that
defy propriety suited to the occasion.
More About the Dead Man and His Funeral
He isn’t sure how it began, the day
he fell from grace, dragging them along.
Nothing heralded that it would be
anything but typical–lectures,
papers, preparations and mentor-
ing. Ah! that was it, he gasps, behind
closed doors. A hand upon a thigh
and then the tangle of emotion. ‘Twas
all it took. He bids farewell and plummets
into the flames of hell.
Submitted to Big Tent Poetry: http://bigtentpoetry.org/ The prompt for today was a Wordle, which prompted a poem darker than that which I usually write. Child molestation is a sad reality of life. The form is Dead Man Poetry, the Brain Child of Marvin Bell. I was able to use all the words, for a change.
Submitted as well to One Shot Wednesday: http://onestoppoetry.com/