Dead Man's Thunder
Dead man’s thunder is as loud as it needs to be. They always say “as the crow flies” but crows don’t fly in straight lines. Here lies a man who didn’t know his aglet from his merkin but he knew that alphabetically, hell comes before holy. So go ahead. Have a big drink of house fire. Telling you your shortcomings is like complaining at a McDonalds.
We all take turns winning and losing. As far as I see, I got out when the getting was good. It’s hard to throw playing cards into a hat from far away but with repetition, it’s possible to get good at it. It’s even harder to throw postcards down to Earth from Heaven.
This is the prayer book of my chest falling open. These are the drooping flowers of your time-killing words. You have the lazy grace of a tall woman not yet yearning to be young. Let me shiver the rain out of where your trees touch. Let me seizure against your missing tooth. Cover me in blankets and bring winter into my heart again. You are all the reasons I’ll ever need to keep warm.
I am a treehouse tenant. A swimming pool tour guide. A garment worker pretending to be a helicopter.
You are the folded census form with matching last names. You are a tax return made of bridges to the future. You’re a natural disaster with the best consequences.
If math counts, then the square root of us will be greater than the sum of her parts.
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We all take turns winning and losing. As far as I see, I got out when the getting was good. It’s hard to throw playing cards into a hat from far away but with repetition, it’s possible to get good at it. It’s even harder to throw postcards down to Earth from Heaven.
This is the prayer book of my chest falling open. These are the drooping flowers of your time-killing words. You have the lazy grace of a tall woman not yet yearning to be young. Let me shiver the rain out of where your trees touch. Let me seizure against your missing tooth. Cover me in blankets and bring winter into my heart again. You are all the reasons I’ll ever need to keep warm.
I am a treehouse tenant. A swimming pool tour guide. A garment worker pretending to be a helicopter.
You are the folded census form with matching last names. You are a tax return made of bridges to the future. You’re a natural disaster with the best consequences.
If math counts, then the square root of us will be greater than the sum of her parts.
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