Because Nothing Wants To Die… Poem by Ted Sheridan

I lose everything in the end,
when the lights are turned out and my tongue dries.
Hanging by the skin of my teeth,
I can’t hold onto the rope that twists above the quicksand
any longer and so I cross my fingers like hangnails,
as I fall from the grace of your most loving grasp.
Succumbing to the fatal flaws of my weakening humanity
for whatever reason I don't resist sinking below the surface muck
and into my own personally autographed glossy eight by ten
of my perfected and patented death mask,
which is suitable for framing…

I lose everything in the end,
when the rain beats the hell out of the thatched roof above my head,
overflowing the gutter spouts and drowning my dreams in flash floods
down a cooked duck’s back…
My tongue dries, becoming thick with clichés and innuendos
every time I try to explain how I expected the loss
Because in the end, when it really counts
and because nothing wants to die....
Only then my love, do I remember the scent
of your shoulders and nap of your neck
and how lovely you wore your hair…

2007 © T Sheridan