Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

& when you finally die,
they will not let you rest---
for to finally get to enter every orifice
of your once secret world
is something that vultures dream of
late at night,
before cumming in their jammies
to the thought of discovering
what was never ever their business to begin with---
and when they get what they want,
they’ll puncture it with a stake &
run all over the televised town square
amidst interviews with people who will
say that they are your friends now &
family members who will say they always knew you,
all wretches whose boredom in life can be stirred up
into a freshness for a day or so
by the vomiting up of lies concerning a 
dead person for the national public.

ever heard the stories of the sap whose porn collection or
drug stash was found by the weeping family members after
the tragedy?  
ever heard a story come from the mouth of an individual so very worried
that when it is all over,
the “real” them will be discovered?

unfortunately,
the incessant curiosity of mundane, mediocre minds
has no limit &
to make themselves feel more alive &
better about their own failings,
they’ll stop at nothing to find out everything about
anyone, 
when said individual is no longer alive
to ask them politely 
to stay out of their business.

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