Queen of Death

my body is an empty vehicle gone motionless,

I lie on the ground covered in bugs and earth

just like I’ll be in death, when I’ve forgotten everything.

I forget all of myself to remember You.

leaves and spiders in my hair, I feel like a Queen:

adorned with the crawling life of nature’s crown.

 

I assure those still living I’ve never been more peaceful

however you imagine me, I’m in elysian fields

everything I used to be is returning to life

look in the eye of the ant crawling from my grave

or in the heat spiraling from my ashes,

ashes to ashes and dust to dust, come what passes.

 

on the day I was born my wishes nobody asked.

I return to my unborn life in my backyard.

we dislike flies because they thrive on our rotting flesh

and aversion to dirt is an ownership issue at heart.

I’m a Queen of Nature in my own death,

garland like Persephone of white asphodel.

 

the triumphal procession of life marches over my grave

the day will shine like never before for something tomorrow

when every particle of my body gives up its claim

to the lifelong lease returning from where it came

this isn’t my body, I only had it on lend:

break me in pieces and carry away.

 

life is a death, and death is a life, I’m crawling with bugs

I’ll never be thirsty or hungry again when I’m dead

all my bodily needs, something else’s new problem

the aphid crawling on my knee is my good friend.

this is what happens when you forget on a whole new level,

visions of death cloak me in peace.

 

now I’m in the presence of the Great Being

only in death, the life it’s eternally seeking

that which gains life from my death is my salvation

because there’s beauty in death and decay when inverted:

in dissolution, to another its life is converted.

I lie shrouded in death in my backyard.

 

the note of an airplane’s whistle faints overhead

on the ground I open my eyes and see wooden David

Michelangelo’s vision echoes into this vision—

I promise to repay every talent I’m given.

my body is an empty vehicle gone motionless,

I forget who I am and what I was supposed to do—?

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First published in Global Poemic, 2021. View in Global Poemic→
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If I Only Could, I'd Make a Deal With God