Plain American Language

I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The Punta Arenas Cemetary (Poem #23, now we're on track, baby!)

The grounds are huge:
well groomed trees
giving a sense of grandeur
to these famous family tombs,
and also solemnity: pathways
named "Thoughts" or "Hammers."
Alone, or accompanied yet still alone,
you walk under these ornaments,
and don't know who anyone is
in the mausoleum with the neo-gothic
angel, despite the family's name
written below. You head down,
and run into someone else's grief
near the above-ground tombs,
and later on a real funeral..
that quick shank into dirt, forceful,
terrible, everyone watching...
there's not much that's sadder than
shovel hitting dirt. Except the silence
and cold clump thereafter.

3 comments:

Olgasmic said...

one of your best. Revisit ending.

thehubcapkid said...

what do you think should be revisted?

Monse said...

Punta Arenas Cemetery is such a nice place. I love it :D

How about a visit to Punta Arenas with me? ;)

Cheers
bye!