Rookie (Chicago, Illinois)

A Clean White Shirt - Poem by MARINA GIPPS

He had a clean white shirt on
when he died.
The mystics were pleased-
No trail of saliva,
nor blood,
and no trailing of excrement
leaving his underclothes.
This meant God felt he was clean
like the day of his wedding.

In a hat he married
when his bride wore faux blossoms,
white bedbugs buzzing near his brim,
he waiting for that kiss
at the end of the ceremony
when laughter was withheld
from their pathetic souls.

This was fifty eight years ago,
a rare widower he was,
collecting spiders in oriental vases,
and speaking to crickets
the mystics knew.

Comments about A Clean White Shirt by MARINA GIPPS

  • (6/20/2007 1:29:00 PM)

    oh, how i love this...very original and inviting. You have away of bringing the reader to the scene; the mark of a real poet...thank you for that.

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  • (11/14/2005 7:14:00 PM)

    what a great description
    fierce and gorgeous
    a great poem
    what a fellow
    seeing into the heart
    of everything
    remaining pure
    sailing in his coffin
    to heaven and beyond
    a lovely poem
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 14, 2005

Poem Edited: Tuesday, July 10, 2007

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