Flakes

Flakes

Snow falls on an uncleaned porch

Kids knock to offer service

With their shovels

I have no money

To pay their price

Later

Opening the door

still snowing

The porch would have been

Recovered

Who would charge

To remove the new snow

I wait for the sun

Luckily still free

But you can bet

Someone tries to charge

For the open space to sun

LIke they do for the machinery

That cleans the streets

After the snow flies

Ah, the layers of government

In service of the economy

That won't send boys

To shovel my ramp

But who would visit me

And where would I go

The boys who want money

Would charge me for their use

Of my snow covered porch 

That no one will visit until

Until

I don't know when

Barry G. Wick

Death

Death

There is no rest in death

It takes effort to never breathe 

Just try to stop decay

It's terribly tiring

Then there's the dark

Provided your body was found

And coffinated 

Can you believe it

There are people who want

To be dead

Decoffinated

They accept being turned

Into ash

Ash

Then it's death as cement

Or some kind of clay fixture

Here's uncle Bob

He became a statue of Venus

Well he always was that way

He just loved shiny silk and such

Some go to space

It wasn't enough to be dead on earth

I suppose they couldn't take

The constant tears and wails

Having given some thought

I want to be loved by dogs

Where they leave their excrement

On some grassy ground

Chasing a ball

And maybe just maybe

Chewing on my bones

Barry G Wick