Buried Poem by Nicolas 'Kokonutz' Kokonas

Tired, bored, homelessly ugly in a visual desert of hallucinogens.
It’s dry.
and I haven’t slept in days,
The grains of sand in the wind
have weathered away my visage in small steady chunks
until I am now only the core of a man
Famished, and looking glazed eyed into the strange face of the sky,

My bones will be buried to honor the dead
Or rather to save the living from sights unpleasing
smells revolting
and the realization that one day
their bones will be here along side me.