Empty Wrapper

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Soft worms watch from below 

As I toil 

Spraying dirt overhead. 

In the lunar spotlight 

A wrapper, 

Empty, stirs me to sweat.

Lifting it I choke 

Empty fear rises like steam. 

The shovel heavier, 

With thoughts that compound, 

Soft worms are watching still 

In delight; 

I return to that day in my mind:

“A ragged man forced it 

(Silver skin, that scent) 

Into my hands to eat 

(Chocolate, that kept) 

He laughed when I cried 

(Sweet treat I repent!) 

And the sky spun around, around,

And the sky spun around, around 

The sky it spun around 

I woke up in a hospital bed!”

I drop the shovel, 

Kicking the wrapper 

Alone and lingering by 

Souls, whose scent is foul 

I cry again 

(They laughed) 

At memory gone by, 

And kick the wrapper in the ground 

Upon the coffin’s empty face.