Thoughts With Beethoven In The Background


I could cry that sounds so beautiful−
Have you ever been underneath a plane?

Please don’t bury me alone, I hate the sound
of digging. Place an eyelash protection device

between me and the coffin lid. I want my eyes
to remain open however you can manage it.

Maybe poke a hole in the top and hand me
a periscope to peek through, but I hear the nights

are cold. All my relatives were buried in marble
walls, except my parents who weren’t allowed

to die. I believe they escaped before anyone knew
what happened. That lady stands naked all the time,

one arm raised above her head with a bee behind her,
sucking the life out of a chartreuse flower.

Carol Lynn Grellas

This piece has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize.