These Secrets

by

These secrets will go down
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiito the mighty Sod.
There will be operatives,
[Coroners, corrupters]
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisplitting the skull
of my vacant head —
All they will find
is an overgrown garden,
Stigmas so bulging
from every bulb
And there will be agents,
[Lawyers and lurkers]
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiprying my drawers
to rifle them wide —
The only thing left
will be Wednesday’s Ash,
My words on their skin
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin an endless stain
These secrets will go down
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiito the mighty Sod;
Not even her umber
will note a confession . . .
It will pale into Nothing
as the pall drifts down,
PiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiUntouched, untrammeled
by the passing of Time.



Edward Hemstreet is a surfacing writer from New Jersey, United States. His works are featured or forthcoming in ‘Dunes Review,’ ‘The Gateway Review,’ and ‘The Write Launch,’ among others. In other realms of literature, he has written a presently-unpublished novel, ‘The Model.’ When not writing, he may be found drinking uncomfortable amounts of tea.
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