TROUT   [5]

Zane Ivy: [1 , 2 , 3 , ]
Ode to a Dead man in the Taegu Burger King
Breath departs, your skin - leather
now, enthroned the Burger King
touched but unmarked cold, unnamed a
waxen crown adorns your disheveled brow.

Pants down no longer there to catch
matter's barrier you have breached
turds floating in ceramic bowl
long immobile fingers fidget not
curling sleeping dreams never seen.

Secret's out, your soul no where unless
caught between bathroom tile while
uncircumcision's smile upside down
doubt this is how or where you
expected to ground if suspected at all
your inevitable as are all the passings.

No one here worried if underwear are
spotless or stained, clean your nails aren't
but mute points, workers wonder without
expression how your carcass can be
removed without losing or customers
losing lunch boys with paper hats would
have to clean from spotless floors.

Now dead and unspoken your
exposed buns no longer waiting will
be wrapped as time has ordered you
"to go."

  © 1998