where will the spirit go

when we sink into the mud

will it return to the earth 

to the sea and the sky 

- like everything else 

born of this world

will like call to like?

and where will the song go

that melody lodged in my throat 

that is both the pain and the 

white pill slicked in syrup 

- like everything else 

born of humankind 

will it seep into our tangled roots?

but where will the heart go 

that stranger inside my chest

that voyeur of death 

that child lock on the little orange bottle

- like everything else 

vile and depraved 

it beats




    - anon