[148]

Death is So Damn Cute

Got a voice like gigglesnorts of petunia petals, so when
he comes to the door, it’s you peeking through the glass
hide and seek laughter and your fingers opening to peer
through like you used to do for scary things, but now
you’ve learned to punch scary things in the face. Death’s

not scary, though. Got that little hat on, like a chocolate
cupcake canted on his skull, like he’s wearing an edible
kiss. Some part of him is clearly made from marshmallows.
Fat little fingers or that marzipan skull. He smells of
sugared almonds and freeze-dried ice cream that just

came back from another world. Button candy eyes.
Suck the black off and beneath they’re minted pastels
dotted with jimmies. His fingers are salted from
his pretzel-stick scythe. If you lick them, he’ll
shower the lawn with sprinkles of glee.

~ Palm Reading

Image of this adorably geeky tarot card deck that I just backed on Kickstarter!
Words written in the light of day.
Time Taken five or six minutes, between watching hummingbirds.
Brain on jellyfish.

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This entry was published on June 17, 2012 at 9:10 am and is filed under CA, June, Poems, Redwood City, Self-Portraits. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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