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
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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