In a Sussex Graveyard
His name is John Albert Cummings,
born 1878 died..... well we are not sure,
the stone is much worn.
Up we hop on the green mound,
dance the frantic dance.
The sacrilegious sex
adds risqué flavors,
drives us into an underworld
where flesh struggles
atop old bones.
Laid out spent on the turf;
panting like sheepdogs,
we giggle a prayer of thanks.
The stars are so clear --- they glitter
like prismatic ice.
John Albert Cummings born 1878
was nice.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
