Poem: Sarcophagus of Flesh


This horrible sarcophagus of tendon and bone
Atomic flesh for the spirit to contend against
With our swagger
And seasoned indomitability
Yet all it took was a blood clot
The size of a pea
To serve as the bullet
You eventually bit
In the arena of life
Mortality is the unwanted streaker
We can’t help gawping at
And in that moment
As the coroner’s answering machine dies
I can hear the cries
Of a millennia of Taoists and Buddhists
Railing against this flesh
As the Herb of Immortality withers


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