d(e/a)ath

d(e/a)ath

when i die, you don't have to cry/ you don't have to feel no feelings inside
–jesus christ allin


my soul will be carried off by a drunk
murder of crows. i will be transmitted
by spiritual electricity
through the bloodsoaked tunnels up each snaking

crooked path to the crown of the tree of
life. i'll glimpse it, perhaps only for 1/
32 of a second, one hot
single frame-shot, grasping desperately

in the reality-melting vacuum
of thermonuclear god-light before
falling, disintegrated, empty-skull-
first in the rather bored yawning abyss.