Clyde Kessler
Famous Last Words If you bury a word just for your life, or for autumn, or for a love across Eastern Shore, will you find it the cedar of a cloud? Will you re-voice it deep down like the deserted friendships of villages crowded into a computer, the stars slapping their dark waves into a boat? Will you play it with banjo calluses, cracked ribs, lame stage hands, in a flare gun where no rescue helicopter can circle? You like all the dramas that help you disappear. Yet you tell your cold body to find something kinetic to save memories and muscles. If you can bury a word, you can soon bury everything else.
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