Slaughter at a funeral

She died yesterday.

The funeral was the typical dry-eyed tearjerker.
(plenty of stick-on tears, but a noticeable lack of misery--
maybe he lost the invitation?)
But it was a funeral (/carnival),
andeveryone had some perfect part to play.

And when they finished shoving the corpse under its dirt blanket,
the wind received a boost from the held-back plethora,
sweet sighs of relief;
no one wanted to have to look at that box,
no one wanted to(cared enough to)admit they were wasting their time
pretending to care.

She died yesterday.

She thought she’d take them by surprise—felt a quick minute of guilt
for dearly departing from all of their lives.
But she shouldn’t have worried, because they didn’t mind at all.

(not quite the happyeverafter of fairy tales…)

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AN- just a little thing written to get myself in the writing mood. might not be my best, but eh. it was a five-minute write, after all, so there you go.

discovered that attempting to write poetry in the waaay-too-crowded coffee/break room of a hotel is not the easiest thing in the world. of course, as it happens to be the only wireless area in the entire building, there wasn’t much of a choice….