Stream of Consciousness for Dead People

Water moves in drips and waves

And it lives in valleys and caves

And it comes and goes and never stays

The layers, the liquid, the fog and haze 

And a million miles of coral blades 

That guides ethereal glowing wisps

of long lost prehistoric electric fish

That have eyes that pop and teeth that are hooked and brains that are blackish and concentrated into a disc

Of clearish languiousity and luminosity 

Enough to tell that the bottom of the ocean is a skin away from hell 

And a hair short of flesh from the press of the earth

In a jar, we all start and we end on a hook 

Through the eyes into the veins and ventricles and chambers til I feel

Like embers beneath your feet 

As you brave the waters 

Brimming with eviscerated reptiles 

And scented with dead roses that fell from the porches of people who live near the sea, in the dark

We don't think about roses in the dark.


Featured on SYWZine on April 11th.