the body bag on route 27

Sleep alone: you require the comfort of dreams, not me, in fact I think you’ll be just fine without/

      What good is lost
             without a map to civilization
      what is human but pavement
          where a brain can scatter like
              open jars of silky marbles all across
                the barely lit highway

         organs dry-abandoned alongside the carcass
               & in the milky eyes of the corpse
      Death reflects
                        its presence

                 for some, not soon enough

–LM

3 thoughts on “the body bag on route 27

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