Death Gets into the Suburbs

By Michelle Boisseau Michelle Boisseau
It sweats into the tongue and groove
of redwood decks with a Tahoe view.
It slides under the truck where some knuckles

are getting banged up on a stuck nut.
It whirls in the egg whites. Among blacks
and whites spread evenly. Inside the chicken

factory, the Falcon 7x, and under the bridge.

There’s death by taxi, by blood clot, by slippery rug.
Death by oops and flood, by drone and gun.

Death with honor derides death without.
Realpolitik and offshore accounts
are erased like a thumb drive lost in a fire.

And the friendly crow sets out walnuts to pop under tires.

So let’s walk the ruins, let’s walk along the ocean
and listen to death’s undying devotion.

Source: Poetry (January 2012).

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Poet Michelle Boisseau

POET’S REGION U.S., Midwestern

Subjects Living, Death, Time & Brevity

Poetic Terms Couplet, Free Verse