Spare the End
And the cemetery was
what it’s always been:
waiting to be explored—
all the bones beneath our feet
forgotten about before
this chore of unearthing
great, great grandfathers
crib dead distant cousins
outlawed in-laws
divorced
twice removed
like a rotten regenerating tooth!
Don’t think the dead can’t speak!
Though their tongues are tied like tubes
to those who refuse to accept
ancestral truth,
they will prophesy to progeny
who want a peak
at what’s above
or below
or at some middle stage
where Dante dared to go—
has gone?
Crack what’s bound.
Raise the dead.
Write the truth
and spare the end.
May 21, 2016
“And the Cemetery Was” Contest
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