Tuesday, August 08, 2023

The Dainty Dishes

 

The End Is Near said every sign

Every Saturday. They came,

Forecasting death and sometimes rain.

Their name was Legion, just the same

As ever. If you had a home,

You wouldn’t come, predicting rain,


I thought, but that was foolishness.

One wore a bed sheet, one a kilt,

And you a tablecloth or lace.

You warned of blood which would be spilt

And drank your chocolate milk, a fault

Indigenously out of place,


But loveable. The girls displayed

The follies of their fashioning,

And gawkers liked the sight they made

And joined in on the final sing.

Death advertised its local sting,

Picturesque and a little lewd.


The sting was in your parlor, stuffed

With bread and money, left a card

There on the mantel, never left

The doorway where it knocked too hard,

As if no one had ever heard

Or ever wept or ever laughed.


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