The Will

I dictate my will with an expansive smile

though tears have filled my saddened eyes,

for the thought of leaving my dog behind

has suddenly horrified my tranquil mind

with images of an adopter who becomes unkind.

With whom my pet is likely to abide

in the event of my demise

I simply cannot decide.

And since poets only become a financial success

shortly, or long after, their deaths,

I bequeath the revenues of my poetry and prose

to a publisher with a cause.

The beautiful dresses I never wore

are to be donated to a charity mall.

“Any death rites?”

the patient notary finally inquires,

after my very long spell of silence.

I have had a clamorous life,

so grant me a funeral that is very quiet:

no mourners whatsoever, no public grief,

only the sexton, an official, and a priest.

Let me rest in peace.

The Stars

They peep at us through holes in the sky,

which we, homo sapiens, had called the stars,

and marvel in horror at the wars and strife

that plight our lives.

Some send flying objects to investigate

Any possibilities of salvaging our earth,

but end up departing in sheer disgust

at humanity’s mistrust.

Others view the peepshow as a spectacle of terror

that is broadcast live

to deter their youth from contemplating crime.

I, on the other hand, perceive the light

that emanates from their peeping eyes

as a luminous gift for my very dark nights.

Serpentunatrance

The gods had drugged our cups with a substance

they had excavated from Planet Mars

and called it the Serpentunatrance.

It slumbers in the stomach and only crawls

when nutrients approach,

repelling digestion with nausea’s worms.

It wriggles as soon as blood cells are excited,

smothering any possible joys

that would surmount melancholy’s ploys.

It heaves unease into one’s chest,

diluting each breath

with sheer distress.