Tuesday, November 1, 2022



Another Day Of Life


I noticed my name listed

in the morning paper’s obituary,

and asked if it was really me?

The name had a familiar ring to it,

though the picture looked nothing like me.


I finally decided I was still alive

and went out to celebrate,

not to eulogize someone else’s death,

but observe and honor another day of life, knowing

being alive was much better than the alternative.


Fear Of Life


It’s not death I fear,

but life,

living a life full of pain,

a world full of hate.


You think I am evil

if I have different views from you.

You think I am a racist because

I am a person of non-color.


I cannot change who I am.

You want me to go away, to die?

Go ahead, fire your gun,

but please, make it quick.


Rest In Peace


He broke into the house.

I don’t know why he felt

it was necessary to visit me,

it wasn’t anyone that I knew?

I got the gun out near my bed

and shot him in the head.

There was no need to call 911,

the police had been defunded,

and now, the number was only used

for fire and medical emergencies.

I rolled his body into a tarp

and place it into the dumpster.

He will get a proper burial in a landfill,

along with all the other trash.

The ones attending the burial, his friends,

the rats and maggots living in this cemetery.

I hope you enjoy your visit in hell.




DUANE ANDERSON currently lives in La Vista, NE.  He has had poems published in Fine Lines, Cholla Needles, Tipton Poetry Journal, and several other publications. He is the author of ‘On the Corner of Walk and Don’t Walk,’ and ‘The Blood Drives: One Pint Down,’ and ‘Conquer the Mountains.’


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