By Hank Christian
Date: 4 June 2000
Gravediggers Wanted
The color has all bled out of my world today.
As your words wounded me
Cutting deeper than I ever imagined they could.
Bleeding my love dry
As the last drop mingles with the first tear
To fall from my cheek this year.
In the final analysis
We can dissect the carcass
And inspect the steaming sweetbreads
of this relationship gone ugly
I can pull apart the red tissue
Blotched with dark gray and diseased black
Looking for your promises
That surely must be hidden within
And consume the flesh with a '72 burgundy
But I know
The taste would be bitter
Like bile
And eat into the tender lining of my belly,
Causing nightmares,
Before it lodged in the fold of my small intestine to fester,
And become a cancer.
So perhaps an autopsy is unwise,
As some dead things should be buried fast
Instead of examined too closely.
06/03/00
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