Best Tragical Poems

She has a fever.
I leave her dozing fitfully on the veranda.
Halfway to the woods there is a farm gate
where she will often squat
and piss.
The grass is brown, but still thrives,
strangely adapted to uric rain.
Paris the giant poodle is here,
his nose a rapier seeking past and...

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His lover died
upon a cold, stone tomb floor,
poison on her lips.

How could this happen?
Shakespear miss-translated an
old Italian tale.

A fairy tale commits suicide.
Alternative versions collide,

sad endings multiply,
for those that watch
their own days play out,

and wonder....

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