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To Them, I am Dead, I am Dead

Uncovered

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Knock, Then Come Through

Elise, Elise



Great Big Waterproof World

The Blue Buffalo

Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

Wisdom of the Infinite

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES

The Differences

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

I Turn Forward

The Storm

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

The Make-Up of Molecules

I Will Return

Marinate On This

A Smattering Of Mattering (How Do You Matter)

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

from the tomb of three days sleeping

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Lemonade Days and Rhubarb Pies

Life Among Clouds

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

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What Could a Death Meet-Up Have To Offer?


There's a group online
which meets bi-weekly
they discuss death
in a friendly, open atmosphere
totally non-judgmental
open to all
black attire not required

snacks provided
lots of beer specials
Kleenex not provided

I linger there
at this meet-up listing
and consider
showing up as
The Grim Reaper with sickle in hand

then
I recall a Death and Dying class in college
where I asked a classmate for cigarettes
to put in my ears and nostrils
I remembered I silky sunset-red underwear
in my backpack

after installing the cigarettes
into their places
wearing the underwear on my head
my friend and I cut up
we were immediately expelled for the day
from the lecture hall

my friend wore a hat like Michael Nesmith's
on his bald head with intermittent hair sprouting in
which was standard dress for him
and was not yet trendy like it is today

I too was recently relieved
as I'd been mis-diagnosed with Leukemia--
my results, however, had been mixed up with someone else's

on the down side of the teeter-totter,
I'd just learned a long-distance boyfriend
had told me that he was trading up to a rich sugar Mamma
while my parents' twenty year marriage crashed and burned
into a fracturous nasty divorce

the cigarettes and underwear had provided
much needed comic relief
levity, it seemed to me,
was the death therapy maybe
we needed the most

so, I am feline-curious now
what MORE could this
Death Meet-Up
have to offer?


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 1:13PM PST AUGUST 14 2019
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS
LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

THE NAMES OF THE PARTICIPANTS HAVE BEEN WITHHELD TO PROTECT THE GUILTY...HA-HA








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