tranquil 3:48 p.m. cemetery

exposed roots and i lay my head

on them inhaling the stink of rot

coming from the moisture

entwined in their wood

like cells and chromosomes

the lawn lush and cool

flower beds the brightest

colors in nature’s pupils

jeweled hovering insects

with class and personality

perhaps we are in the place

where not only the dead

come to rest

below the soil

a natural process

holy if you will

is taking place

God’s created flesh

returns to its forewarned state

i can’t imagine it would

appeal to me if i saw it

i then wonder would God’s

face appeal to me too

i focus back on the scents

around me

green aquatic a fowl or six

fried chicken knock off perfumes

car exhaust a hookah oxtail stew

and i think again

behind the pedi-cured beauty

underneath my resting fleshy bones

resides the biological truth

no egos need apply