under the circumstances
within the brigade
of afterthoughts
a dainty seismic march
goose-stepping into the future
while offering party favors
for the dead
those with last wills
& without testament
holding forth excuses
long barred
from all the wrong places
hurled into philosophies like bouquets
ripped
from the salty next-door neighbor’s
stony sobriquet
named in the act
as if humanity
was a profanity
served cold
aspic adipocere
with finger-bowled distinctions
left for the undertaker
an independent contractor
to clarify to whom
the dead speak in God we trust
without accent
or recrimination
if left alone
while their sweet-chariots await
or their chargers need only a goose
baby’s iron-shod new shoes
to get the hang
of heavenward
without cavalry
or calvary
no pride
is required
for what fits sits
squarely saddle-bound
what’s missing
is often only
what has been forgotten
or soon left hobbled with careless wonder
that it ever was
