Mourn Him

by Jesse Glass
 
The old man lies burr-headed
beneath a wooden sky,
a charred match-stick
in a box

this savage-jawed boomer
sucks the jade
lozenge of death,
a mask of flies
punishing his face

finally tamed, 
he will bother you
no more

mourn him
like a ball-bearing
drips oil & light

like a slab of oak
planed but not sanded,
darkens 

mourn him
like a wide-mouthed jar
set out all night
in a storm	

 2002 by Jesse Glass. All rights reserved.
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