Coffins Across From Grady
A boom-saw clatter sent
large limb clusters to
asphalt hidden by the hill.
At 10:05
people left
the emptied halls of Ta…
Fate.
Across from Grady –
littered between
stones, groomed stalks
of grass tickle
sneakers
and enshrine stone slabs –
They’ve gathered
to sift words soft in the air.
The school’s false monument
with its smooth tops,
graveled edges, and perfect little
squares built in the ground
around like coffins
with their ghouls
on top.
Alive and not –
Wake Up!
But they’d just sit there
dead on the coffins.
As the hollowed
husk’s of
sarcophagus.
Like walnuts rolling
in a football helmet.
And I was one
of them.
Waiting for a hand
to send me around again
and come out that hole
where the ear
should be.
They
stopped to look
at some pile
of grey
smeared on the
ground. And they would
drop their
eyes and slight their
heads
only to
keep walking.
By Brad Olsen
Sptember 29, 2010
