Prescription Aforethought

       Prescription Aforethought

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

It is as if he is an injured pulse

Inside a ghost, assuming that a ghost

Is more than vacuum.  His veins convulse

Despair.  He thinks he wants a pointed post

Hammered through his heart, or what passes for

That organ in his void.  The shotgun by

His side remains impassive.  Shell in drawer

Lies, waiting.  It is not impassive, sly.

It’s there.  That’s all.  She will not care, or if

She does, so what?  When others enter, late,

The first thing they will know will be a whiff

Of blood and brain.  This barely has a weight.

  Some splinters of the skull will be against

    His bedroom wall.  His calm will be dispensed.

Phillip Whidden